


The Two Captains:  Brothers in Time

by LadyDeb



Series: Birthright [10]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Nick Fury lives up to his name (like you didn't see that coming), Temporary Character Death: Jack Harkness, a variation of 'The Most Dangerous Game' as played by a wannabe, imagine how the Avengers react when they realize Coulson's alive, messing with the Avengers and Torchwood should qualify one for a Darwin Award
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeb/pseuds/LadyDeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ninth in the Birthright series:  Someone has been capturing veterans in the Southwest.  That was their first mistake.  But capturing Jack Harkness and Steve Rogers, thus involving Torchwood and the Avengers?  That will be their final mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue:  The Hardest Part of Surveillance

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here’s the beginning of ‘The Two Captains: Brothers in Time.’ I’m not entirely sure yet how long it will be … as long as it’s necessary to tell the story, I suppose. As mentioned in the disclaimer, the Nevada contingent may show up … that’ll largely depend on them. I learned the hard way that Rassilon has his own opinions on how things should be done. For that matter, so does Suzie. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer:  Captain Jack Harkness, Esther Drummond, Dr. Owen Harper, Rex Matheson, and all things Torchwood do not belong to me.  They are the property of Russell T. Davies, the BBC, and Starz Studios.  There’s a possibility that the Nevada contingent (Rassilon, Ianto, Tosh, and Suzie) will show up, but as to that, I’m making no promises.  By the same token. Captain Steve Rogers (aka Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man), Thor, Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Natasha Romanov (the Black Widow), Dr. Bruce Banner (The Incredible Hulk), Odin, Frigga, and Loki (because the last three may show up as well) belong to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, and Norse mythology.  Anyone else whom you don’t recognize (the wannabe, his minions, and the Tregarths) belong to me.  I don’t mind if you borrow them … just ask first, and return them to me reasonably intact.

 

 

Prologue

 

 

The Hardest Part of Surveillance

 

 

 

Torchwood Oklahoma underground base

July 2012

 

 

She thought, after Vera’s death in the module … after nursing Jack back to health … after almost dying herself … that she saw the worst of Torchwood.  _No_.  No, this wasn’t Torchwood’s fault.  She couldn’t get into the habit of blaming Torchwood for what was actually the way the world and the universe operated.  Blaming Torchwood for people’s bad behavior was like the citizens of a given city blaming the police for criminal activity.  The difference wasn’t a change in the situation, but a change in your perception of it.

None of which helped Esther Drummond now, as she listened to her lover and friend and boss being hurt.  Someone was hurting Jack, and she could only stand here and listen.  Could do nothing to help him, nothing to ease even the slightest discomfort.  That alone was bad enough, because she wanted to hurt someone in kind.  But even worse were the cheers she could hear, nearly drowning out Jack’s pained sounds.  There were people who took pleasure in the infliction of pain, and others who took pleasure in watching it.  She knew this, of course.  But it was entirely different when the person who was being hurt was someone whom she … someone who mattered to her.   At last, the whoops and catcalls died away, and the only things she heard was Jack’s harsh breathing and a squishing sound … after several moments of listening, Esther nodded to herself.  Mud.  That was right.  It was raining in that part of Oklahoma.

“What do you have so far?” Rex asked softly and Esther raised her hand, listening intently.  Rex, surprisingly enough, didn’t say anything else, instead waiting as patiently as he could for her to respond.  There was a thump (body hitting the ground) and a pained moan, followed by footsteps across a metallic surface.  Maybe a truck?  That made sense.   She could vaguely hear two men, maybe three, talking in low tones as they walked away.  The footsteps stopped, and then began once more.  Jack cried out, before coughing harshly.

Someone said weakly, “Leave him alone!”  There was the sound of flesh connecting with flesh, and then a thunk.  Sounded a bit like the thunk Lucas made when his head smacked against a wall.  So, someone was struck in the face and then their head hit the wall.  And that someone was trying to protect Jack.  The footsteps began once more, followed by a metallic clanging … a door shutting.  A truck?  Esther began writing down her observations.  There was a rustling, another pained moan, and then the voice from before whispered, “Hang on, pal, it’s gonna be all right.  Name’s Steve … you?”

“Jack.  Yeah.  Yeah, we’re gonna be fine.  Oh God,” Jack gasped, and Esther’s fingers tightened around her pen.  It took a conscious effort to stop tightening those fingers … after all, she didn’t want ink all over her fingers.  Jack continued as the truck started up, “You seem familiar.  We met before?”  As Esther continued to write down her observations, Rex pulled up a chair and booted up his work station.  Neither of them could hear Steve’s response, but they did hear Jack observe, “What do you think, we’re traveling east?”  Esther smiled viciously.  Whoever had both Jack and this Steve had no idea what they just unleashed … and if all went well, they wouldn’t know until it was entirely too late.  Esther was in Torchwood long enough to realize that things rarely went according to plan … which was why the more information she had, the more Carlyon and Sophia could come up with a back-up plan.

“Yeah.  Not gonna ask how you know that,” Steve murmured.  There was another pained gasp, and Steve added, “Lie still.  Those three dopes did a number on you.   I’m surprised you’re even conscious at this point.”  That made two of them, although that begged the question.  Steve evidently saw the assault on Jack.  How?  Were there windows? Or did he peek out of the open door?  Esther wrote down that question, because if he looked out of a door … why didn’t he try to escape?  After a moment, Steve added, “These bozos don’t know it, but they just made their last mistake.”  There was a cold note of satisfaction, one that Rex evidently heard as well, because he looked up from what he was doing to stare at Esther.  Especially when Steve added, “People will be coming for me.  My unit.”

Jack made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and cough, replying, “You and me, both.   By the way, I’m Captain Jack Harkness.”  Rex rolled his eyes, both at Jack’s introduction and at the obviously flirtatious note.  Esther rolled her eyes at Rex’s rolled eyes, provoking a smile from her former supervisor.  Esther, however, didn’t smile.  Instead, she focused on every breath, on every clue she could wring from listening to Jack.  When she and Jack first became intimate, she hadn’t realized how useful it would become, the things she learned about while their bodies were entwined.  She learned just as much during their times of intimacy as she did while she was caring for him after he was shot.

However, Steve’s next words drove all of that out of her mind.  He murmured, “Captain Steven Rogers.  Cap works too.”  Rex stared over at her.  Captain Steven Rogers.  That was the real name of Captain America.  Esther returned Rex’s gaze steadily, and he nodded. The voice print he’d taken of Steve matched the voice print in their records for Captain America.  Those boneheads had taken Captain America.  A few minutes earlier, Steve stated that their captors just made their last mistake.  He was one hundred percent correct.  Whoever was behind these disappearances attracted the attention of both Torchwood and the Avengers.  Neither group would take the abduction of their captain well.  Not well at all.

“I’ve made a copy of the voice print and ensured the tracker is on.  Jason and Lucas are loading up the mobile units.  As soon as we brief the old man, we can be on the road.  We gotta do that, Esther.  You know Adriane will be here monitoring World War II, and you know that she’ll notify us, but we have to go,” Rex murmured, putting his hand on her shoulder.  Soft footfall alerted them that they weren’t alone, and Esther looked up to see Owen with the last of his medical supplies in his hand and a worried expression on his thin face.  At his side, holding his hand, stood Adriane.  Esther swallowed hard and nodded, moving away from the console.

“I promise, Esther, I’ll notify you … whether I hear anything more from Jack or if they change direction, I’ll let you know.  Just … just get going, okay?” Adriane said, pausing just long enough to squeeze her hands.  Esther nodded once more, forcing herself to back away.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Adriane (her sister, Esther’s mind reminded her) … but this was Jack.  And yes, he came back after dying, but … Adriane murmured, “Jack Harkness is the strongest person I’ve ever met, Es.  And he’s with Captain America, who survived seventy friggin’ _years_ encased in ice.  Those boners don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell.”  Something tight in Esther’s chest loosened and she was able to summon a real smile.

“As Jack would say … see ya in hell,” Owen offered, and that was what Esther needed to hear.  She offered him a smile, and he winked at her.  With Rex and Owen at her back, Esther moved to the ladder which would take her up into the bunkhouse.  Owen muttered under his breath, “I don’t know what’s worse, seeing Jack and Esther’s love nest, and figuring out what to say to Natalie.  She kissed me!”  Esther rolled her eyes, even as she was grateful to him for distracting her from her fears for Jack.  Yes, Natalie kissed him, but that was several weeks ago, and he certainly had no trouble talking to her at breakfast this morning!

As she listened to Rex and Owen bicker, Esther’s mind drifted first to the transmission from the bar where Jack was taken, and then further back to when Jack and Carlyon learned of the disappearances.  With the capture of Jack and Steve, that brought it up to fifty.  In the depths of her heart, Esther begged Jack to stay as safe as he could (which, knowing Jack, wasn’t safe at all) and to hold on until they got there.  _Just … hold on_.

 

TBC


	2. Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have the sequence of events leading up to the mission that led to Jack being captured … Jason brings a situation to the team’s attention; Agent Phil Coulson isn’t at all happy about his current situation; while information is gathered and inspiration strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add that ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ doesn’t belong to me. As Jack and Adriane note, it was published in 1924, and written by Richard Edward Connell. From what I can gather, it was an influence for the wildly popular ‘The Hunger Games’ (among other stories and movies). And Adriane has it to rights … it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Jack would have read that when it was first published. Like Adriane, I had to read it in school … like Adriane, I found it strange, but I can’t deny that it’s the kind of story you never truly forget. Getting back to the summary, in this chapter, Owen makes reference to the Mercedes-Benz Citaro ambulances of Dubai, the largest ambulances in the world. These actually exist, and have since 2009. They’re in the Guinness Book of World Records, with the ability to treat up to twenty people in a single ambulance. The ambulances actually look like city buses on the outside. Look it up, the pictures of the interior are incredible. You can thank the 8/2 episode of Jeopardy for that … I was working on this when that clue came up.

Tregarth Homestead, Oklahoma

Two weeks earlier

 

 

“All right, if there’s nothing else, I think that will be enough for today … yes, Jason?” Carlyon Tregarth asked as his oldest grandson raised his pencil … actually, he raised his hand which held the pencil, but that was a matter of semantics.  All eyes switched to the former soldier, and Jason swallowed hard.  The entire Torchwood team was gathered in the (rarely-used) formal dining room while Ailsa was settled in for her nap … in her own room, for the first time in several months.  She was finally secure enough after Wycliffe’s abduction of her that she could sleep in her own room.  Jason shook his head, returning his attention to the briefing.

During the last few weeks, ever since Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD came to recuperate at the Tregarth home, he’d been driving Jason absolutely batshit insane.  Okay, so he wasn’t the only one (that was part and parcel of being a family after all), but it did seem like Coulson was usually driving him insane.  Usually, Jason was considered the more even-tempered of the Martinelli brothers, but a recuperating Agent Coulson was enough to try anyone’s nerves.  

To keep the older man occupied while he did what he needed to do, Jason told him about something he heard from one of the former soldiers who was helping to build the veteran’s home and would be staffing it once it opened … likely by the end of August.  That may have been a mistake, but … at the time it seemed like a good idea.  He said now, “Sir, Agent Coulson has been investigating certain claims made by Sergeant Rollins, and he’s noticed a disturbing pattern.  Over the last few months, ever since the Chitauri incursion, there have been dozens of military personnel going missing.  And all of the disappearances have been from military bases in the Southwest.”

He had everyone’s attention, he saw now.  Swallowing hard, Jason continued, “At first, I thought that maybe these guys were deserters, but Agent Coulson investigated them … their profile doesn’t track with a potential.  They’re the real deal, Grandfather, the hard-core bad-asses … sorry, ladies.  They wouldn’t desert.  And that’s the other thing … I know from my time in the Army that we’re soldiers first, and our specialties second, regardless of whether we’re ordinance or an office clerk.  We have to be soldiers first, otherwise we’re dead.  But these guys … these are guys whom Agent Coulson would want to recruit to SHIELD as agents.”

“Do you have those files with you, Jase, or does Phil have them?” Jack asked him, eyes reflecting concern.  Jason handed the files over to the immortal captain with an internal sigh of relief.  While Jason’s grandfather was the patriarch of the family and the figurehead of Torchwood, Jack had just as much influence with what cases were taken.  And right now, he seemed _very_ interested in the information that Jason and Agent Coulson accumulated between the two of them.  A glance toward his grandfather reassured the former soldier that the patriarch saw just as much.

“What does Agent Coulson think is happening, Jason?” Esther inquired.  Jason glanced over at the blonde, still trying to wrap his mind around the knowledge that she was his cousin.  It was bad enough when she was just his insanely hot friend who was sleeping with another insanely hot friend (hey, he could admit that!) … now that she was his insanely hot cousin, things got a helluva lot more complicated.  Jason mentally shook himself.   Really, just when he thought the branches of the family tree was getting untangled, he got hit in the face with a new branch.

“Right now, he isn’t sure, but he thinks that’s why we should investigate.  He floated the possibility that, given the background of the guys taken so far, someone may be assembling an army.  There are a lot of people who were badly rattled by the Chitauri invasion,” Jason noted.  Esther bit her lip and wrote something down on her notepad.  Everyone at the table had one, and unless someone needed to do research, no high-tech was allowed at these meetings.  His grandfather didn’t want them to be too dependent on technology, which was why they had hard copy files, as well as electronic ones.

Jason’s grandfather looked over at Jack, who murmured, “Even if this is human, rather than alien, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get involved.  Owen no doubt remembers the Brecon Beacon cannibals.”  Jason stared at both the captain and the doctor in horror, especially when Owen nodded, grimacing.  Cannibals?  Torchwood Cardiff faced off with cannibals?  He looked over at his younger brother, and both Martinelli boys responded with a full-body shudder.  And not even being swatted by their mother made a difference.  It was just … cannibals!

“Yeah, thanks so much for that reminder, Jack!” Owen retorted sourly and Jack shrugged, although he did look contrite.  It seemed the memories weren’t pleasant for either man.  Naturally.  Jason couldn’t imagine how anyone would have pleasant memories of mixing it up with cannibals.  The doctor continued after a moment, “Still, we should take a look.  One thing you learn, even outside Torchwood … sometimes, the worst monsters are humans themselves.  The things I saw in A & E …” He shuddered again, and Jack’s hand came to rest on his shoulder supportively.  Yeah.  Yeah, Jason could relate.

“Agreed.  All right, Jack, I want you to take the lead on the investigation.  In the event it becomes necessary, you seem to be of an age with the men who have disappeared.  Jason, you’re his back-up.  And thank you for bringing this to our attention.  I realized while I was listening to your report, my boy, that I missed something on the agenda.  Lucas, Owen … what’s the most recent information on our mobile fleet?” Grandfather asked, turning his attention to their medical team.  Owen smirked and Grandfather sighed, “Oh, and Owen, please contain your snark to your weekly bicker-fests with Agent Matheson?”  The entire table laughed at Owen’s mock-pout.

“Well, if you _insist_ ,” the doctor sighed, before explaining, “The mobile fleet should be up and running within a fortnight.  That’s two weeks for you Yanks.”  Aunt Priscilla cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows at Owen, which led to him turning bright red with embarrassment.  Owen muttered, “Right then.  We used Sophia’s suggestion and based the medical coaches on the Mercedes-Benz Citaro ambulances in Dubai … and thank you for that suggestion, Sophia.  Those are incredible.  At present, we have five coaches that are ready, and Lucas and I are working on the last one.  While we’re on the subject, I successfully passed my driver’s test, no applause please!”  Of course, that meant that everyone did just that.  This time, Owen offered a mock-scowl, but all of them knew that he was secretly pleased with the response.

“Excellent.  Lucas, do you need any more supplies for those coaches?” Grandfather asked and Lucas shook his head.  Goober.  Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he was doodling on his pad instead of writing.  That was on Luc’s head … he was twenty-three, not a kid any more.  Their grandfather murmured, “Very good.  Oh, and Lucas, if you enjoy drawing so much, I suggest taking lessons.  Those proportions are _all_ wrong.”  The men at the table erupted with laughter, while Lucas turned bright red with embarrassment.  Busted!  Grandfather merely smirked, adding, “That being said, this meeting is adjourned!”

 

TWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Agent Philip Coulson was not a happy man.  Heaven knew that he was happy to be alive, even though he still wasn’t sure how that came about.  That was something of a mystery, and not the kind he was fond of.  What he was fond of was the Tregarths.  Even the somewhat abrasive Agent Matheson (although Stark still outdid him in that category), the snarky Dr. Owen Harper (please, he worked for SHIELD), and the flirtatious Captain Jack Harkness (whom he’d met before, of course, and could well understand how his then-very-young grandfather fell under the captain’s spell, even before he saw the way his cousin looked at him).

But he wasn’t happy about being confined to bed.  Yes, he understood its necessity, and yes, he appreciated the care he received … but he still wasn’t happy about being confined to bed.  He was even less happy about it when he found out that his boss and supposedly his friend ruined his vintage Captain America cards by rubbing his blood across them and throwing them at the captain!  He learned of this quite by accident … evidently, certain members of SHIELD thought he was a fool.  He would enjoy disabusing them of that notion when he returned.  And when he returned, he would also have a few things to say to the colonel, and not just about his ruined cards!  (It was beside the point that Carlyon Tregarth arranged for the procurement of a set of vintage set, even though Phil was grateful to the man … he’d had those for years!)

More than that, he regretted making the young man … his childhood hero returned to life … feel uncomfortable.  The boy had been awake for a matter of weeks when they called upon him once more … weeks to absorb all the changes, the knowledge that everything he’d known, everything he’d loved … was gone.  Oh, and he couldn’t forget the words that sounded better in his head, ‘watching you while you slept.’  _Erm, right, Philip, nice job in weirding the kid out_!  And he was a kid.  Christ, he was so young!  But he had more courage than too many people whom Phil knew and Phil knew a lot of brave men.  Despite what some would say, he came from a line of brave men … and women.

But the worst part of being confined to bed wasn’t hearing about how Colonel Fury defiled his Captain America cards (even for the very good cause of giving the Avengers something to avenge) or regretting how he handled things with Captain Rogers.    It was the time he had to think.  There was too much time to think, and while Phil Coulson was a thinker as well as a doer, he needed to be _doing_ something.  He read magazines and books as his strength returned, he worked on crossword puzzles, he even played games on a tablet provided to him by the oldest grandson Jason.  All the while this was happening, the family dog kept him company and provided her own brand of first aid whenever he moved a little too fast or over-extended himself.

He also got to know the rest of the family.  He’d already met Sophia, Natalie and Ailsa while they settled his grandfather’s estate, and he’d heard about Carlyon, Priscilla and Octavia from his grandfather.  However, there was Jason, Lucas and Adriane … and now, Esther Drummond.  There was a story there, but no one had shared it with him yet.  He supposed it was none of his business (at the present time), but he dealt in information.  Knowledge was power, and while he didn’t seek power over the Tregarths or Jack Harkness, he could use that knowledge to protect them, should such a situation arise.  And as he got to know them, he began to understand his grandfather’s odd bond with Carlyon Tregarth … best enemies, fighting friends, frenemies, whatever you wanted to call them.  They were bound together because they loved the same man at one time, and they both wronged him.

The books and magazines, the crossword puzzles and the tablet, the visits from the family members and the company of Mij, all of those were fine things.  But Phil was still growing more and more stir crazy.  So, when Jason Martinelli came to him with the report from that retired soldier about military personnel going missing over the last few months, his prayers were answered.  The boy turned over all of his research, what he’d been able to find out from questioning Sergeant Rollins and others, and Phil did the rest.  By the time the weekly meeting rolled around, Phil had a picture that was making him very, very nervous.  He turned his research over to Jason, knowing that the boy would in turn give it to his grandfather and Captain Harkness.  He only hoped that the Captain and the figurehead would find it worth their time.

He had his answer about three hours after giving the paperwork to Jason.  There was a gentle rap at the door, and Mij immediately yipped in response.  It seemed that in the Tregarth home, that was considered an acknowledgment, and Phil still didn’t have the energy to teach her to do otherwise.  Carlyon Tregarth entered his room, followed by Jack Harkness.  The older man said with false cheerfulness (honestly, he was recovering from a chest injury, not a brain injury), “You’ve done quite a lot of work here, Agent Coulson.”

Phil merely adopted his polite, dutiful mask (the one he utilized when he was someplace he really didn’t want to be, but had to be), but said nothing.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Captain Harkness smile slowly, as if he knew what Phil was doing.  The SHIELD agent knew better than to underestimate the immortal.  His cousin did that, and look where she ended up.  Well, yes, of course he knew that she was on the SHIELD helicarrier … he was the one who arranged for her to be transferred to the helicarrier’s medical wing, after all.  Phil still wasn’t sure who was floating around the helicarrier, winding up Olivia.  Of course he knew about those individuals.  He didn’t like her very much at the moment (fine, he generally didn’t like her), but she was still his cousin and it was still his obligation to watch over her.  Besides, he certainly wasn’t an idiot.  There was a particular reason why, after nearly a year, his cousin’s condition wasn’t improving.  He just had to find the answer.

“Carlyon … he puts up with Tony Stark.  Our little skits aren’t going to work with him,” Captain Harkness pointed out dryly.  Carlyon Tregarth responded with a dirty look, but Captain Harkness merely shrugged, adding, “Hey, I call it like I see it.  You know that, Carl, we’ve known each other long enough.  So let’s not waste your oxygen and Agent Coulson’s energy by dancing around the subject.”  Thoroughly astonishing Phil with his out-of-character behavior, Carlyon actually stuck his tongue out at the immortal and crossed his eyes.  Jack merely smirked, replying, “Maybe later, Carlyon.  For now, I want to let Agent Coulson know that we will be investigating this.”  Though he was smiling, his eyes were serious, and Phil relaxed against the pillows.  Mij whined at him and he glowered at her half-heartedly, but began scratching behind her ears once more.  The most bad-ass of all SHIELD agents (yes, he heard the nickname which Hawkeye gave him) was rewarded with a contented groan from the tiny animal, and he rolled his eyes.  It wasn’t Carlyon Tregarth who ran the household … it was this corgi!

“Oh, very well!” the other man huffed.  Captain Harkness winked at Phil, who tried not to let his amusement show.  Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t an issue … he wore masks with the best of them, but (still) being in excruciating pain, it was a bit harder not to show pain.  Carlyon Tregarth’s words, however, were the greatest pain-killer he could have asked for.  The émigré told him, “After going over your research and hearing what both Jason and Sergeant Rollins had to say, Jack and I have decided that we will investigate these disappearances.  Whether you’re correct and someone is building a private army using conscriptions or something else is happening, we will find the answers.  And depending on the situation, we may take actions ourselves.”  Phil heard the iron in the man’s voice and realized that underestimating Carlyon even now, when he was close to ninety, would be remarkably stupid.

“Thank you.  Is there anything else I can do to help?  There aren’t words powerful enough for my gratitude in all you’ve done for me, but in all truthfulness, I’m afraid boredom will kill me before my injuries will,” Phil admitted.  He was a bit worried by the smile that passed between the two older men (he could never allow himself to forget that Jack Harkness was far older than he appeared.  That would be as dangerous as underestimating Carlyon Tregarth).

“Let me speak to my youngest … she’s been working on the hard copy files for our archives, and she may need some help.  We won’t need to worry about Retconning you, I’m sure.  Working for an organization like SHIELD, you’re very good at keeping secrets,” Carlyon observed smoothly.  Phil merely smiled serenely.  The Torchwood figurehead didn’t know the half of it.  Captain Harkness smiled at him, before leaving the room.  However, Tregarth stayed and from the other man’s expression, Phil realized that he didn’t want Captain Harkness to hear this … any of it.  That was fine.  As Mr. Tregarth said a few minutes earlier … he was good at keeping secrets.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Over the next several days, as Jack continued his investigation into the missing service members, he began to detect a series of patterns.  Not just a pattern, but several.  First, all of the disappearances were all near (within fifteen to twenty miles) military installations … not their home of record.  In other words, they weren’t in transit.  Jason was correct when he surmised that none of the men were deserters … with Phil’s help, he was able to contact family members of the missing soldiers (sailors, Marines and airmen).  Most of the information he gleaned from those interviews wouldn’t help them find the men.  However, it did provide a profile for what their abductor was looking for. 

When Jason questioned Sergeant Rollins a second time, he observed that from what he was told, only men were being taken.  No women.  Further, the men who were taken were, as Jason put it, hard-core.  The best of the best, and the training to go with it.  Further, research told them that while all of the men were taken from or near installations, just about every location had a bar and a recruitment office.  And with each bit of information that came in, more of the picture took shape.  Sophia was taking a break from her research into her sister’s condition, since her approach would require … delicacy … to work on the profile.

When Phil Coulson questioned this (or rather, her training), Sophia gently reminded him that she was a diplomat’s daughter, and that was part of her education.  Later, she honed her skills as the unofficial second in command of Torchwood Three.  Coulson thought about this for a moment, before inclining his head.  Whether it was in agreement or acknowledgment, Jack couldn’t tell, and it really wasn’t that important.  With that out of the way, Sophia asked the SHIELD agent if the Chitauri left any items behind, anything that would allow the possessor to control the minds of others.  He actually blinked in astonishment before answering that to the best of his knowledge, the only thing that met that description was a scepter that Prince Loki of Asgard used against Clint Barton.  And that was in the hands of his adoptive father, Odin.  However, he would be checking in with Colonel Fury later in the week to assure his boss that he was still alive and healing nicely, and could verify that at the same time.  He asked why she would bring that up.  That made two of them.  Jack was wondering the exact same thing.

Sophia observed that one of the possibilities raised during the meeting was that someone was kidnapping military personnel to turn them into their own private army.  There was a problem with that, however.  Men like those being taken wouldn’t fight for just anyone.  They were honorable men, men who took an oath … and that oath meant something to them.  Jack offered the possibility that their families were being used as leverage.  Sophia merely looked at him sadly, but it was Jason who answered that their families were all out of state and safe.  No.  No, those men were taken for another reason, and they just had to figure out what that reason was.

Over the course of the week, a bit more was added to the picture.  It was Adriane who unwittingly provided the final clue.  Jack went into the computer room to pick up print-outs for Phil, where he found the middle Tregarth granddaughter reading in one of the bean bag chairs.  He greeted the girl, who answered absently, and Jack asked, “What are you reading that’s got you so fascinated, Adriane?”  A quick perusal of the print-outs confirmed that everything was there that needed to be there.

“A book of short stories.  I had to read it in high school and it bored me to tears.  There wasn’t anything else to read in Grandpa’s library, and there’s nothing for me to do right now.  So, I’m reading this.  Funny thing, I read this before … but it’s a helluva lot more interesting now,” Adriane replied, just as absently as she returned his greeting earlier.  She blinked, muttering, “Okay then.”  She put the book down in her lap, brow furrowed, and said, “It’s called _‘The Most Dangerous Game_ ,’ and it was written by this guy named Richard Edward Connell.”

“Published in 1924 … I’ve read it.  I read it when it was first published,” Jack confirmed and Adriane glowered at him.  He merely smiled at her, continuing, “So, you were bored and couldn’t find anything else to read, so you decided to try some classics.  What had you frowning just now?”  Adriane tapped on the book, and then on her knee, struggling to explain herself.  Jack hooked his foot around the rolling computer chair and sat down, sensing that she needed a few minutes to organize her thoughts.

“At first, it wasn’t that … the ending didn’t make much sense to me, not at first.  It was kinda sudden.  But … maybe it was the ending it needed to have.   I just … I can’t fathom how someone could do that.  I mean, I get hunting to feed yourself or your family, or even to deal with something that puts others in danger.  But that’s just … I don’t get that, Jack,” Adriane replied, shaking her head.  Jack smiled and kissed the top of her head.  She swatted his shoulder, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

“Didn’t say a word, kiddo,” he pointed out to her, and she just rolled her eyes.  He said more seriously, “You and I don’t need books to tell us about humanity’s unkindness to animals, to aliens, or to other human beings.  We’ve seen it for ourselves.”  She nodded, looking doleful, and Jack continued, “The hard thing to remember is what humanity is capable of, on the positive side.  And Adriane, the things I could tell you about that … how brightly humanity sometimes shine.  Your aunt was trying to remind me of that when we argued, just before the Gelth showed up.  And she was right.”

“And, it’s not just that people are both good and bad, it’s that an individual person can be good and bad?” Adriane inquired.  Jack inclined his head.  Adriane made a face and said, “It’s better this time around, but still.”  Jack shrugged.  He didn’t argue with the classics … he also didn’t argue with women.  Didn’t do any good and annoyed the women.

“As you wish, my dear girl,” he answered, sweeping a bow as he did his best to sound like her grandfather.  She rolled her eyes at him and Jack eased out of the computer chair, saying, “I need to get these to Agent Coulson.  We’re trying to find a clue into why these men have been taken.  Your grandmother doesn’t think they’ve been taken to become part of an army, and I’m tending to agree with her.  Jason and Rex will be investigating the locations where they were taken, but they need to know what to look for.”

Adriane nodded, returning her attention back to her book.  However, as he started to leave, he was stopped by Adriane asking, “Jack?  I know this was written in the 1920’s, but do you think something like this could happen today?”  Jack turned around at Adriane’s question, frowning at her thoughtfully.  She continued, “I mean, I look at the movies, but could it really happen?”  Jack mulled over the question.  There were so many ways to take that question, including whether it was physically possible.  But that wasn’t what she was asking.

At length, he said, “Yeah.  Yeah, it could.  Adriane, you remember what it was like during Miracle Day, how things were falling apart.  There may be more who were taken during those two months that we don’t know about, or maybe Miracle Day is what triggered this, instead of the Chitauri attack, like we initially thought.  But yeah … it could happen.”  Adriane looked worried and he kissed the top of her head lightly, before heading out of the room.  Her questions continued to circle in his mind, however.  Jason and Phil eliminated the possibility of desertion.  Sophia seemed sure that it wasn’t about building a private army … and Jack was starting to see the outlines of what could be a possible motive.

As he reached Phil’s room, he found Sophia and Carlyon already there, discussing the reports Jack just retrieved.  Phil, looking much better with a purpose, was listening intently.  Sophia, he noticed, was watching Phil’s expressions, since he said very little.  She looked up as Jack entered the room and he said without preamble, “A conversation with Adriane just opened my eyes to the possibility that we’ve been going about this the wrong way.  What if the capture of these men _is_ the point … rather than an army or anything of the sort?”

Coulson’s eyes brightened … as if Jack’s epiphany was something he’d been mulling over, as well.  The captain didn’t ask how the other man came up with what he was thinking but he felt sure that his former lover’s grandson had the exact same idea.  Carlyon and Sophia were both staring at him, prompting him to explain and Jack continued, “Adriane’s been re-reading an old short story, ‘ _The Most Dangerous Game_ ,’ and it occurred to me …”

“My God.  The purpose isn’t to build an army, but to hunt these men!” Sophia growled, sounding very unladylike (and very sexy, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself).  Her amber eyes were flashing with rage, and Carlyon began shuffling away from her very carefully.  She was always dangerous, but when she started growling … well, it was best to be out of the line of fire.  Sophia repeated, her voice growing softer, almost plaintive, as if begging them to say that it wasn’t true, “They’re _hunting_ these men!”

Jack nodded.  It was a likely scenario.  But there were still questions to be answered.  Even if this was the case (and he was growing more and more convinced as he turned over the pieces in his mind), there was still the question of why … and how to stop them.  Phil Coulson’s expression hadn’t changed at all since the beginning of the conversation, but the man’s eyes didn’t reflect that stoicism.  He was angry.  So was Jack.

 Carlyon, who stopped his sideways motion as soon as his wife’s voice softened, murmured, “This isn’t what we were anticipating when we started this investigation.  And now that we know a likely reason for the disappearances … are we turning the case over to someone else?”  Even before Carlyon finished speaking, Jack was shaking his head.  No.  No, that would take too much time, time those men might not have (assuming they were still alive).  Besides, as he and Owen mentioned during the initial meeting, just because it wasn’t alien, didn’t mean Torchwood wouldn’t investigate.

He responded, “Oh, no.  No, if anything, I’m _more_ determined to see this through.  We need to find out _exactly_ what’s going on.  Agent Coulson, what would be the best place to get the attention of these bastards?”  Both Sophia and Carlyon protested, but Jack overrode them, saying, “Can you think of anyone better suited for an operation like this?  If we’re right, if these men are being abducted for someone to hunt them, I’m their best chance.  Best case scenario, we’re wrong and something else is going on.  Worst case scenario …”

“He’s right.  I _hate_ it when he’s right,” Carlyon grumbled, drawing a small smile from both Sophia and Phil.  Jack merely shrugged.  After a moment, the figurehead looked at his wife, asking, “What do you think, love?  Not about whether Jack goes in … he will, no matter what we say … but about our involvement?”  Sophia merely folded her arms over her chest and fixed her husband with a Look.  Phil’s smile widened a touch.  His lips moved and Jack could make out, ‘ _just like Grandmother Talia_.’

“You’re right. Jack will do what he feels necessary.  But we’re going to be backing him up, Carlyon … I want us to have a team on stand-by.  We need to consider the possibility that whoever is doing this is working hand in hand with the Families.  A bit far-fetched, admittedly, and I don’t want to be looking for operatives of the Families behind every tree … but if these people discover Jack’s immortality, it won’t be long before the Families are involved.  So, Jack goes in … a handler will be standing by.  If our theory is proven correct, we go in.  Not just one or two, but the entire team,” Sophia replied.  She switched her gaze from Carlyon to Jack, asking, “Will you accept that?”

He offered her a charming smile (which fooled her not at all), answering, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.  Contrary to popular belief, I _don’t_ enjoy dying … but it’s better me than any one of the others, especially our neophytes.”  There were a lot of things he could have said at that point.  But, in the end, he told them, “Let me know when the briefing will be.  I’ll be around.”  He still hadn’t given up on that file in the new Hub with his name on it.  However, that wasn’t his primary objective at the moment.  He needed to talk to Owen.

 

TBC


	3. The Phone Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Steve get acquainted, while Jack muses on what he’s learned so far; the Nevada contingent learn about the new case; and the rest of Torchwood Oklahoma mobilizes to fight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll get to the information about this chapter in just a minute. Right now, I have some very good, very important news to share (yes, more important than finding out that John Barrowman, Burn Gorman and Gareth David Lloyd will be at DragonCon this year … sorry, boys, I do love you, but this is far more important). After thirty-nine months, several thousand resumes and applications, and well over a hundred job interviews (probably more, but I kinda lost track), I now have a full-time permanent job with benefits. Back in May, I interviewed for a position in the Registrar’s office at the college where I’ve been working since February. On Wednesday, I received a phone call from HR offering me the position. Naturally, I said yes. Also naturally, I began crying as soon as I hung up. I start on Monday, with new hire orientation. Okay! Back to the chapter. Remember back when I said that the Nevada Contingent might show up? Well, true to form, Suzie insisted. She pointed out that while the Avengers can’t yet know that Phil Coulson is alive, his family is another matter. And who is sleeping with his cousin Liam (when she isn’t sleeping with the Master)? Why, that would be Suzie herself! So, they’ll be making appearances in this story, starting with this chapter. And that’s the perfect lead-in for the summary.

Unknown Location

June 2012 (hours after Jack’s capture)

 

 

On a scale of one to twenty of the dumbest things he’d done, this counted at least as a fifteen.  Maybe even a seventeen, but really, he was the only person who could pull this off.  Not that this knowledge eased his aching body.  Jack allowed his head to drop against the side of the trailer, closing his eyes.  Admittedly, the beating was bad enough, but when they dropped that hood over his head?  He was torn between wanting to laugh (did they really think that would inhibit his sense of direction?  Didn’t they know … never mind.  Best not to look a gift hood in the mouth) and being concerned for whoever was monitoring him by way of the lenses.  Sometimes, whatever your imagination came up with was far worse than the reality.

About an hour into the ride, the hood was removed from his head, and Jack blinked a few times to let his vision readjust to the slightly more intense light.  But he really couldn’t say that he was surprised when he found Captain Steve Rogers peering at him.  He’d caught quite a few of the young soldier’s USO acts prior to his now-legendary rescue of his best friend, Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes, and the rest of the unit that became his Howling Commandos.  He was always an attractive kid (even in the pre-serum pictures Jack had seen), but now, there was an added layer of appeal.  Jack hadn’t quite put his finger on it … maybe it was the sadness in his bright blue eyes, thanks to the loss of his entire world, the battles he fought both in the past and the present, but Steve Rogers was even more attractive now than he was in the forties.  Of course, it could have also been the hip-hugging jeans he was wearing, but Jack didn’t think so.

The two men exchanged their stories (after they were both satisfied that the only people who were listening were the ones who already knew about their plans), and Jack was not at all surprised to learn that the younger captain was investigating the disappearance of the veterans in this part of the country.  He’d connected with his remaining Commandos, and it was they who told him about the disappearances in question.  Steve, who was traveling across country to further acclimate to his new reality, couldn’t let that slide.  He sent a message to Colonel Fury before setting a trap for their captors … one that they ever so obligingly fell into.  As Steve said a bit indignantly, “Don’t they recognize a trap when they see one?”  Jack could only agree, though he wasn’t about to complain … however, his aching body had other ideas.

Steve murmured into the silence, looking around the trailer where they’d been bouncing along for the last few hours, “I can’t be absolutely positive, but I think it’s been two hours since they picked you up.  They’re taking us out of state, I think.”  Jack bobbed his head.  That was the most likely scenario, give the information they’d found so far.  He knew Carlyon and the others well enough to know that they were already on their way, following the breadcrumbs Jack left them.  Steve asked softly, “What did you mean when you said that your unit would come for you?  You didn’t mention any specific unit, but you are part of something larger.”

Jack smiled, because he’d actually been expecting that question earlier, answering, “Yes, I am. I’m limited in what I can tell you … not because I don’t trust you, but because in this case, it’s safer for you not to know right now.”  Steve raised an eyebrow questioningly:  _right now_?  Jack smirked to himself.  He figured that he would pick up on that, and the immortal continued, “I’m the field team leader for an agency that deals with alien threats:  if they’re benign, we either get them home or help them settle here; if they’re not, we try to drive them off or neutralize them.  If we can’t neutralize, drive them away or contain them, well …” He let his sentence trail off, wincing at a twinge in his lower back.  Steve nodded thoughtfully.

“Just out of curiosity, since you do deal with aliens … why didn’t you come when the Chitauri attacked?” the young man asked and Jack shifted to get a little more comfortable.  There was truly no censure in his voice, merely curiosity … as well as concern when Steve added, “Will you need any help when we get where we’re going?”  Jack shook his head, although he couldn’t hold back a wince as he finally settled into a more comfortable position, with his legs stretched out in front of him.  Steve pressed, “Are you sure?  I’m a helluva lot stronger than I look.  I don’t have to carry you, but I can support you.”  Jack smiled at the boy (never mind that he was technically ninety-odd years old, he was still a boy to Jack) and shook his head.

“I’ll be fine … I’m always fine.  And … we would have come if we’d known about it.  You had it under control, but against an enemy like that?  Help is never unwelcome,” Jack answered and Steve nodded emphatically.  The truck hit a particularly deep pothole, sending fierce pain rippling through Jack’s body, and he swore under his breath.  He closed his eyes, breathing deeply until the pain lessened.  When he opened his eyes, Jack found Steve watching him with undisguised concern, and Jack forced a smile, adding, “Remind me to thank our hosts properly when we leave for _all_ their hospitality.”

Steve grinned at that, some of the concern easing, and Jack went on, “Okay, so you were telling me about what you’ve noticed so far.  How many men jumped you?  There were five or six men who attacked me.”  Steve nodded, and began outlining what happened when he was taken.  They discussed it in generalities earlier … but as Steve knew just as well as Jack did, the more information they had, the better off they … and their respective units … would be.  As Jack listened and plotted, he wondered if their captors had any idea what they just unleashed.  He hoped not.  He really, really hoped not.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Tregarth Homestead, Oklahoma

Same day

 

 

“Okay, Grandfather, you wanted the most recent update:  Update:  everything’s loaded up.  Mama Sophia just got off the phone with the sheriff, and she’s contacting the state police so we don’t get stopped.  Esther has things set up in the main RV for the tracking, and Dr. Harper has Mom helping him in the main MMU.  Aunt Priscilla is verifying our supplies, and she shanghaied CIA into helping her.  You should have seen his face … he was not happy.  He didn’t argue with her, though.  Uhm …. Oh, Natalie is on board the main RV with Esther, getting Ailsa settled.  Yes, Aili knows the rules.  Never thought we’d need rules for a five year old on an op, or even that we’d have a five year old on an op, but up until last year, I never heard of someone who didn’t stay dead,” Lucas said, reading off a check-list attached to a clipboard.  And unless Carlyon missed his guess (which he didn’t think he did), it was the same clipboard that Natalie used when inventorying the items in the bunkhouse.  The boy paused and continued, “According to Adriane, Jack and Captain Rogers are both conscious and discussing the situation.  Jack hasn’t told Captain Rogers about the lens, so he doesn’t know that we’re hearing and seeing everything that Jack is.  I imagine that Jack’s holding that in reserve.”  As they walked to the front door, Carlyon was glancing around, verifying that the house was empty except for Adriane (who would be monitoring Jack from her laptop in the main house) and Phil Coulson, who was still confined to bed.   Carlyon listened intently to his younger grandson’s report, trying to remember to slow his stride to accommodate Lucas’ somewhat shorter legs.

“Adriane knows to send Esther an email once an hour on Jack’s condition?” Carlyon asked and his grandson bobbed his head as they exited from the house.  That was something that Octavia and Owen both insisted upon, and after that hood was thrown over Jack’s head just prior to the beat-down, Carlyon was beyond grateful for that insistence.  While the lens would allow them to see things through Jack’s eyes, Owen implanted a subcutaneous tracker that would not only tell them where Jack was, but what his condition was by monitoring his heart rate and respiration.

 “It wouldn’t surprise me if Agent Coulson ends up helping her,” Lucas admitted.  Carlyon barely bit back a snort, because Adriane was capable of doing just that.  Lucas paused before adding, “I hate to say this, but maybe it’s just as well that she’s staying here.  Adriane, I mean.  I think she’s been getting on Esther’s nerves.”  Carlyon merely arched his brows at the boy.  Whatever was his first clue?  Lucas gave a small shrug, saying, “Besides, things have been a little weird between Natalie and Esther ever since we found out that Esther was one of us.  Neither of them are shutting out the other … it’s kinda weird, almost like they aren’t sure how to act toward each other.  Like, Natalie will go to say something, and then stop herself.”

 “Learning that Esther is your cousin has required an adjustment for everyone, Lucas, including your aunt.  They just need time to realize that nothing has really changed.  If they can do that while we’re finding those missing veterans, that’s fine … just as long as the ‘strangeness’ between them doesn’t put the mission or those men into greater danger,” Carlyon replied.  That was meant as much for him as it was for his grandchildren.  While they already loved Esther, it was still something of an adjustment as she went from ‘friend and colleague’ to ‘family member and colleague.’  It actually did make a difference, Carlyon came to realize.  He found that he was far more reluctant to send Esther into the field, now that he knew she was his granddaughter.  Priscilla was having similar difficulty.

 Looking back now, he realized that Natalie went through something similar when she learned that she was his daughter, rather than his granddaughter … figuring how where she fit in with her new reality.  Maybe that was what was causing the awkwardness?  Natalie was remembering her own experiences, and hesitated to reach out to her newly-discovered niece, because she knew that everyone reacted differently?  That was entirely possible, and Carlyon resolved to have a quick conversation with his youngest daughter as soon as possible.  At least Esther still had Jack.  That was one of the few things that hadn’t changed, with the revelation of her heritage. 

 “You might want to say something to CIA as well,” Lucas offered.  Carlyon arched his brows at his grandson, forcing the boy to explain, “I don’t know what he said, or even if he said anything at all, but I heard Esther tearing into him.”  Carlyon winced.  That could go either way.  Rex was often abrasive, but when Esther put her emotions behind a wall (as she was doing when she listened to Jack’s abduction), there would be spillover sooner or later.  Carlyon’s bet was on sooner, because Esther wasn’t accustomed to putting her feelings aside.  He feared, too, that Esther’s new insistence on putting her emotions on hold (as she did when Jack was captured) arose out of a desire to prove herself … prove that she could be professional even when someone dear to her was in danger.  Thus far, Priscilla found it difficult to make her daughter understand that it wasn’t necessary … Carlyon was starting to think that Sophia would need to talk to their granddaughter, before she ended up hurting herself or someone else.

 However, all he said was, “I’ll keep that in mind.  For now, get to one of the coaches, whichever you want.  I was thinking, however, that you should take the MMU that your brother is driving.  That way, we’ll have two medics in each coach, aside from the third MMU, but two is all we need at the moment.”  Lucas thought about that and nodded.  He raced lightly to the coach where Jason was sitting.  Carlyon saw Jason’s smile as Lucas bounded up the stairs, saw his older grandson’s lips move, and knew that they were trading insults, as they so often did, as brothers did.  Carlyon smiled faintly.  The house was empty, aside from Adriane and Agent Coulson.

 Oh, and Sophia.  His wife emerged from the storage room that became her office once they’d finished moving things into the new Hub, saying, “Okay, Pilar has come through like a champion, although she commented that her young deputy turned green when he learned of his part in this.”  Carlyon could believe that, but the boy would encounter far worse duties if he remained as a deputy.  Even in a small town like Dupres, there would be gruesome sights … as he learned the hard way during the Gelth incursion.  Sophia continued, smiling at him, “Any preference for me, with regards to the coaches?” 

 “At my side.  Since Jack is in the field, I need you by my side,” he answered honestly.  None of them liked this situation, Carlyon himself included, but it was the best option of several bad possibilities.  Sophia’s face softened and she held her hand out to him.  Carlyon took it, lightly brushing a kiss to her knuckles, before saying, “The main coach, if you please.  I need to speak with both Adriane and Agent Coulson.  And Sophia?”  This was said when his wife nodded and started to pull away.  She stopped mid-turn, and Carlyon elaborated, “You may need to talk to Esther.  Even the boys are starting to worry about her.”

 Sophia’s mouth rounded into an ‘o,’ but she said only, “I’ll take care of it … take care of her.  Don’t worry.  You focus on Jack, I’ll focus on the rest of the team.”  And then she offered him a heart-stopping smile.  When she turned away this time, he didn’t stop her.  Instead, he headed into the opposite direction.  Most of his parting comments were for his middle granddaughter.  He found her in the common room, biting the tip of her thumb as her eyes stayed glued to the computer screen.  She looked up at the sounds of his footsteps.

 While her face was neutral, her eyes were not … and, Carlyon noticed, his middle granddaughter was frightened.  He was suddenly, painfully reminded of Adriane when she returned from Washington DC during Miracle Day, and how badly what she saw in the capital city traumatized her.  Although this wasn’t the first case for Torchwood Oklahoma, it was the first case where any of them were truly in danger, the first time lives were in her hands.  Adriane was frightened.  And right now, she didn’t need the director … she needed her grandfather.  With that in mind, he hooked his foot around one of the rolling chairs and sat down in front of her, taking her hands.

 He didn’t tell her that Jack would be fine.  She knew that he would always come back.  That wasn’t the point.  He didn’t tell her anything, really.  Instead, he sat in front of her and held her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.  Adriane bit her lower lip, blinking back tears, and tightened her fingers around his own.  She whispered hoarsely, “You’ll look after Owen, won’t you?  He’s really worried about Jack.”  Carlyon smiled a little, because he heard so many other things in that question, in that request.

 “Owen will be fine.  Jack will be fine.  So will your sister,” he promised gently, wincing a little when Adriane’s head reared up.  However, he maintained eye contact with her, saying, “And you’ll be fine.  I know, this is your first solo mission since Miracle Day.  I also know that this is the first time we’ve had a case like this … and thus, the first time you’ve been responsible for the lives of others.  But you accomplished what we asked you to do, under far more trying circumstances.  And if Agent Coulson gets out of control, you have my permission to subdue him any way you see fit.”

 There was a ghost of a smile on Adriane’s face as she asked softly, “ _Any_ way I see fit?  Are you sure about that, Grandfather?  Are you _sure_ you want to trust me like that?”  Carlyon thought briefly about amending his offer, but decided against it.  Instead, he maintained eye contact, even as he nodded.  There was a long silence as she processed this, before stating, “Speaking of Agent Coulson … you didn’t tell him that he couldn’t contact Colonel Fury or his family.”  Carlyon shook his head slowly, waiting for her to tell him what that meant, and Adriane continued, “You want him to call them … want Director Fury to know what’s happened to Captain Rogers.”

 “I do.   Of course I do, Adriane.  This is bigger than what we originally realized.  It’s not too big for Torchwood, but this is still something that SHIELD needs to know.  You see, sweet girl, Steven G. Rogers is far more than just a soldier, or even a super-soldier.  He is an icon, he is Captain America.  To you, that really means very little, but to your grandmother and her siblings, he meant a great deal.  When he was dug out of the ice, that was even more true.  I don’t know Nick Fury that well, but I do know this.  He will come for Captain Rogers.  And when he does, hell will come with him.  As to why I didn’t tell Agent Coulson straight out to do that … well.  I’m sure you can figure that out,” Carlyon answered dryly.  Adriane stifled a giggle, and Carlyon smiled at her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

 Once more, Adriane’s fingers tightened around his own, but when he pulled back this time, there was only determination in her eyes.  Not a word was said … nothing needed to be said.  Adriane would do what needed to be done.  Carlyon gently caressed the side of her face, before executing a small bow and a neat about-face (there were some things you just never forgot).  He strode from the house, to the small fleet that awaited him.  Despite his brave words, though, he feared for Jack.  His friend always came back … but his deaths were no less painful for all that.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

Phil Coulson didn’t hear the conversation between Carlyon Tregarth and his granddaughter.  Then again, he didn’t need to.  Phil was an agent of SHIELD, something that the Tregarth patriarch knew well, just as he knew that Phil made weekly reports to his director.  The fact that Carlyon Tregarth didn’t tell him not to make that report to Colonel Fury, didn’t even ask for his phone, told the agent that Carlyon wanted SHIELD to know about Captain Rogers’ current situation.  However, in the interest of good manners, he did wait until the fleet of vehicles was gone, trailing after the idiots who’d taken two good men. 

Once the fleet pulled out, Phil had his cell in his hand and speed-dialing his boss.  It took him less than ninety seconds to inform Director Fury what was going on … in part because they spoke in code.  Just in case.  Directory Fury wasn’t entirely pleased about sharing this with Torchwood, but he understood the need for it.  That wouldn’t prevent him from telling a few people off once the two captains were returned to them.  Phil hoped he’d wait until he returned to work.  He wanted to see that.

 But his boss wasn’t the only person who needed to know about the new Torchwood case (as Nick well knew himself).  He waited several minutes, listening for Adriane’s footsteps in the hall, and when he didn’t hear them, he speed-dialed the office his cousin kept in their grandfather’s old home.  According to what he heard from both his cousin and the Tregarths, Liam would be keeping that office even once the change-over was complete.  Liam agreed to stay on as lawyer, even though their grandfather was dead.  More than that, he closed his office in town and moved everything to his office on the grounds.  That was Natalie’s suggestion, he learned.

 His cousin answered on the third ring, and judging from the sounds he was making, Phil interrupted something … strenuous.  Phil rolled his eyes.  It seemed that his cousin had gotten more in the last six months than he had in the previous six years.  Not that Phil was jealous or anything.  He had no reason to be jealous.  Still, he told his youngest cousin, “Listen and repeat what I tell you.  But only the last sentence or word.  Understand?”  Liam groaned out an ‘ _understand_ ,’ and Phil rolled his eyes again.  There was a part of him that wanted to blame Captain Harkness for Liam’s newly-discovered sex drive, but after the last year, Phil’s understanding of life and death was … no longer the same.    To put it bluntly, he was afraid that either his grandfather or grandmother would swat him from beyond the grave.

 “Honestly, Liam.  Now listen.  I’ve learned that along with fifty other veterans, Captain Rogers has gone missing.  Yes, the same Captain Rogers who helped Zio Carlo escape during the Second World War.  Yes, they found him.  Yes, his plane did … Liam, stop interrupting me!  And tell your partner that he or she might want to hear this.  Yes, Liam, Natalie Tregarth wasn’t the only one to walk in on you and Captain Harkness while you were doing the horizontal mambo.  Why do I bring that up?  Because Captain Harkness is also missing!” Honestly, if there was anyone in his family who was capable of reducing Phil to an annoyed teenager, it was Liam.  Begrudgingly, he had to admit that it was a trait Liam’s older sister Olivia shared.

 Right.  Liam still didn’t know that his sister was alive and in the care of SHIELD.  Of course Phil knew … he was the one who arranged for Olivia to be transferred to SHIELD.  There was a brief silence, broken only by furious whispering as Liam relayed what he’d learned.  After several moments, the younger Colasanto asked, “Jack’s missing?  What the hell happened?”  In the background, Phil could hear a distinctly female voice asking, ‘ _Jack_?’  That was interesting.  Phil didn’t recognize the voice, but it was definitely female … and it just as definitely belonged to someone who knew Captain Harkness.  His cousin hushed his paramour, before saying, “Okay, Phil, you have my attention.  And I keep finding more and more people who walked in on us while Jack and the Tregarth ladies were here.”  Phil smirked, because _really_ , what did Liam think would happen when he wasn’t particularly discreet?

 Still, he replied, “We don’t know.  Well, we do know what happened, as he was being monitored at the time, but we don’t know who is behind it.  As I said, veterans were disappearing, and Captain Harkness went undercover to track down that information.  He was at one of the bars where some of those veterans went missing, when he was assaulted by several men and abducted.”  There was a very un-Liam-like growl and Phil bit his tongue, to keep from teasing his cousin.  There was a time and a place, especially after Liam hissed, ‘ _I’ll tell you when I know something, dammit_!’

 After a moment, Liam said more calmly, “Okay, so Jack is investigating this … how does Captain Rogers fit into this?”  Just when Phil thought he could carry on a civilized conversation, the younger Colasanto gave a low groan, and the SHIELD agent actually face-palmed.  Oh, for … and he thought dealing with Stark was a pain in the neck!  It got worse when Liam whimpered (yes, actually whimpered), “Suzie, please, I can’t focus when you do that!”  Suzie, was it?  Phil made a mental note to see what he could find out more about this Suzie.  He had to look out for Liam, after all.  Especially if this Suzie ended up being a security risk.  There were several moments of ragged breathing, before Liam managed to say in a somewhat steady voice, “Okay, as I was saying, how does Captain Rogers fit into this, and when did they dig him up?”

 For the second time in the last ten minutes, Phil face-palmed.  Then again, Liam was never enthralled with the tales of Captain America … not the way Phil was.  His foster mother thought herself above such stories.  He pushed aside his old resentment of Janel Grady.  She was long dead, and so was Aunt Deirdre.  Instead, he told his cousin, “Captain Rogers learned of the missing veterans from one of his remaining Commandos, and started investigating.  As to when he was brought home … that was earlier in the year, or didn’t you see the footage of the Battle of New York?”  There was a long, embarrassed silence, and Phil pinched the bridge of his nose.  There weren’t words for how grateful he was that Stark wasn’t here to see this.  He would have been taking entirely too much delight in Phil’s discomfort.

 His worst fears were realized when Liam said slowly, “Uhm … no?”  Phil exhaled this time, and Liam said defensively, “Excuse me if I’ve been a bit busy!  I just finished moving my office into the compound, and …”  He was cut off in mid-sentence … for which Phil was somewhat grateful, because quite frankly, his cousin was starting to annoy him.  His relief was short-lived, however, because for the second time in the conversation, he heard furious whispering in the background, which was a prelude to …

 To a feminine voice saying, “I’m Suzie … you were saying something about Jack?  Normally, I don’t mind a domestic that much, but I know Jack, and he’s someone who is important to me.”  So, she was female and British.  And her name was Suzie.  That would help him investigating her once he had the resources.  As if hearing his thoughts, Suzie added in a playful voice, “Don’t bother trying to find things out about me, Agent Coulson.  I don’t exist.”  Well.  That was a challenge if ever he heard one, and Phil Coulson always had a hard time resisting a good challenge.  However, that could wait.  Right now, she was right … the case was far more important than his petty squabbling with his cousin.  That didn’t mean that he would simply give her what she wanted.  Please.  He was a handler for the Black Widow and Hawkeye!

 “That remains to be seen, Suzie.  And I’m not permitted to discuss the case with you.  Of course, if you wish to … get that information out of my cousin, I can hardly stop you.  A matter of national security, I’m sure you understand,” Phil answered smoothly.  There was a stunned silence, and Phil continued, “Now, if you would be so good, please return the phone to my cousin so I can finish giving him the information that you’ll no doubt seduce out of him once this conversation is over?”

 The next voice that came floating down the wire belonged to his cousin once more, and Liam said admiringly, “ _Dayum_ , Phil, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Suzie speechless when it didn’t involve sex!”  Phil scowled at his phone.  Put that in the ‘ _entirely too much information_ ’ category, thank you very much!  However, he put the phone back to his ear, just in time for Liam to say more seriously, “Okay, so Jack and Captain Rogers have been captured.  I won’t ask how you know these things, because I have a feeling if you did tell me, you’d have to kill me.”  Kill him?  Oh, no.  No, Phil had _far_ better ways of dealing with such a situation … and no, it didn’t involve Retcon, although he could certainly see the various uses of it.

“Not at all, cousin,” Phil answered smoothly, “just remember I have other options open to me.”  He didn’t elaborate on what those ‘other options’ might be.  When it came to Liam, it was always best to leave things to his imagination.  As Phil learned the hard way, Liam inherited his imagination from their grandfather (well, so did Phil … just in a different way).  He was proven correct only a moment later when he heard Liam give a very audible gulp.  Phil smiled to himself and proceeded to inform his cousin what he knew so far.  And when he got off the phone, he would start investigating Suzie.  Or maybe he would ask the director to do that.  Director Fury owed him anyhow for bloodying his Captain America cards.  True enough, the director would probably get Agent Hill to conduct the actual research, but it was the principle of the thing.

 

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional notes: In case it isn’t clear from Phil’s thoughts, Director Fury does know about his plan to contact his family, and this plan has the director’s unspoken support. More will be explained later, when it’s explained why Director Fury agreed to Phil’s request (yes, there is a particular reason).


	4. So Many Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Rex musing on the direction his life took with Miracle Day; the rest of the Nevada contingent learns about Jack and Steve’s capture; while the two captains formulate their plans (and we get Steve’s perspective on his unexpected companion).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the third chapter. Thanks to all for your patience over the last few weeks (just realized how long it had been since I updated). I’m still acclimating to my new job … was thrown a curveball my second week of work when I learned that one of my co-workers would be leaving and I would be assuming her responsibilities. Right now, there’s just the Records Manager and myself, so I’m extremely busy. Not that this is a bad thing, as the days go by fast. I already have my insurance cards-both health and vision-(thank you, God!), so I’ll be getting new glasses for the first time in over a decade next weekend. I also went to DragonCon again this year, and despite a thoroughly horrible Saturday, it ended up being one of the best yet, if not the best, DragonCons I’d ever attended. I could write an entire section on that, but I won’t. Instead, if you want to hear about that weekend, contact me directly and I’ll be happy to give you the details. For now, there’s a story yet to tell. Before I forget, I may have confused a few people in the prologue, when I referred to Rex as Esther’s former supervisor. That should have actually read ‘former CIA supervisor.’ As the field second, Rex is still Esther’s supervisor, but if she had to choose between Rex and Jack, Esther would choose Jack. Oh, and I don’t know how many have seen Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, but imagine for now that Phil stayed with the Tregarths before going to Tahiti. Or not, whatever works best for you.

En route to parts unknown, Oklahoma

Approximately two hours after Jack’s capture

 

 

To say that his life changed dramatically in the last year would have been an understatement to end all understatements.  Just to recap, nearly a year earlier, he’d been impaled (and **no** , he wasn’t repeating that where World War II could hear it … the bastard would have innuendos to spare, as he learned the hard way), but didn’t die.  He should have died.  He knew that.  He should have died, but he didn’t and he devoted the next two and a half months to ending what gave him that second chance.  That was irony for you.  Rex Matheson suspected that it was an irony that the Families wouldn’t care for.  That was fine.  He didn’t particularly care what they thought, not after what those assholes put all of them through.

There were his own brushes with being Category One/Category Zero; there was the horror of watching Vera burn to death … and feeling the world he thought he knew getting tilted on its axis with one revelation after another.  There were the two months he spent helping Director Shapiro as Jack and Esther disappeared.  Oh, Director Shapiro knew the part he played in helping Jack to escape … he probably even knew how Esther fit into it.  But he never chastised Rex for the choices he made that night.  Maybe he knew that was the only way it could play out, by allowing the wild card (Jack) to slip away from them.  He would never have the chance to ask those questions, thanks to Charlotte and her Cousins.  Bitch.  Rex could tolerate and forgive a lot of things.  Treachery … or, to put it more simply, betrayal … wasn’t among those things.

He remembered the final confrontation with the Families … seeing Esther shot, hearing her attempt to tell him that it would be all right, that she was willing to sacrifice herself to bring the world back into balance.  She confronted him about that, not long after she was rescued from the Families.  Or rather, asked him about it, since Esther wasn’t generally a confrontational type.  She reminded him that he was an experienced field agent … why would he ask Jack what to do?  That made no sense to her … nor did Jack’s answer that he didn’t know.  They both knew what had to be done, and Esther’s life was no more important than anyone else’s.  Rex admitted that he couldn’t speak for World War II, but he was claiming temporary insanity due to the procedure done earlier to get Jack’s blood inside him.  Esther considered that before nodding her acceptance.  Because she was absolutely right … they both knew what needed to be done.  Hopefully, she asked World War II for his reasons later.  (And if she did it while they were in bed together, Rex didn’t want to know about it.  Seriously … TMI, people.)

And now, they were heading northwest, following the tracking device that Harper placed in Jack before World War II went into the field.  Based on conversations he probably shouldn’t have overheard between Carlyon and Sophia, they thought the abducted service members were in Colorado.  There were two tracking devices, actually … one that was inserted subcutaneously in Jack’s hip (Rex purposely avoided the med bay while that was happening, because he just knew he didn’t want to hear whatever Jack had to say or any noises he might have been making).  The other one … well, he didn’t know where that was.  Toward the back of the coach, a grim-faced Esther was monitoring Jack’s progress.  Across from her, her youngest aunt was … doing something with paperwork.  Rex didn’t really ask.  He learned from his trysts with Natalie’s older sister that there were some things he really didn’t _want_ to know.

And speaking of Octavia … he shied away from calling her his lover, even in the privacy of his mind … she was a few coaches back with Harper.  That … was unexpected.  Between Vera’s horrific murder and thinking that he saw Esther die, Rex had no desire for a relationship of any kind.  But Octavia didn’t give him much of a choice in the matter, with her sassy attitude and her fierce will.  In spite of himself, Rex discovered that he was glad for it.  He couldn’t say that he loved Octavia, but he could say that if anyone ever harmed her, he _would_ make them regret it. 

Love wasn’t an emotion that came easily to Rex, thanks to the loss of his mother when he was still a child and the path away from him that his father took.  Thinking about their confrontation in California after Vera’s death still caused an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the impalement.  Of course, that ache was replaced with a strange, warm glow after he told Jack about that confrontation.  It was just after Esther’s ‘funeral,’ and Cooper had gone to call her mother and check on her daughter.  Her husband was … somewhere, and it was just Jack and Rex, and the former CIA operative told the other man about the encounter with his father. 

There was a brief silence, and then Jack’s eyes narrowed with fury.  It was rare that the immortal swore, but Jack did in those precious few minutes, and swore ripely, using words Rex didn’t think the other man even knew.  Not the first time he’d misjudged Jack and probably wouldn’t be the last.  But that wasn’t the point.  The point was, Rex was stunned to realize that Jack would have ruined his father’s life on his behalf, if Rex wanted him to.  For all that they annoyed each other and took delight in winding each other up, Jack genuinely cared for him … so far as the immortal captain was concerned, despite their (very) rocky start, Rex was one of his, and Jack would care for him as much as he was able. 

He told Carlyon about that incident, when he first officially joined Torchwood, and the older man just smiled and nodded.  Apparently, he was well aware of Jack’s protective nature, and just how much more there was to the self-named captain than his immortality and his flirting. Of course he was.  They’d known each other since Carlyon was five, and the figurehead was approaching ninety.  No.  No, it was more like he was staring ninety in the face … and he delighted in reminding particular people, including Rex, just how intimately he knew the team leader.  Wily, randy old bastard.  Rex shuddered, because really, there were just some images you didn’t need in your head … and that?  That scenario topped the list.

A year earlier, he was on the run with two strangers and a girl who didn’t even qualify as a neophyte trainee, and with the CIA, however nominally.  Now, he was a member of Torchwood and even more so, he was a part of a family.  The Tregarths were insane … he had only to look at both Natalie and Esther to realize that … but to them, there was more to family than just blood and marriage.  He was drawn into this family, just as surely as Jack was, just as surely as Harper was.  And despite the recent issues, Rex accepted that really, he didn’t want it any other way.  It wasn’t that he needed the Tregarths … but knowing there was someone there, someone who could trust to watch his back?  That made a difference, even to a loner like Rex.  Maybe even, _especially_ to a loner like Rex.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

The first sign that something wasn’t entirely right came when Suzie literally steamed into the cottage the four of them shared (five, when Koschei was around).  Tosh could almost literally see the steam rolling out of the other woman’s ears.  To say that she was angry (and even a little scared) would have been stating the obvious.  Truly, Tosh was of the opinion that Suzie was terrified of whatever had her so upset.  As the door swung shut behind her, Suzie pacing back and forth in front of the aforementioned door, Ianto murmured, “I’ll go retrieve Lord Rassilon.”  The tech nodded.  Really, what else could she do?  Ianto was still regaining his strength, and unlike Tosh herself, he wasn’t in the least bit afraid of their captain’s father.  Tosh wasn’t even sure if she would say that she was afraid of Rassilon … but she wasn’t particularly comfortable with him.  She was grateful to him, of course … he’d given her life back to her, just as Jack did.  But his father … well, yes.  He did … unsettle … her.

“What is it, Suzie?  I haven’t seen you like this since that sweet little girl Lily walked in on you and Liam, and she gave you the shovel talk on his behalf,” Rassilon observed as he and Ianto returned to the room only moments later.  Ianto arched his eyebrows as he looked questioningly at Suzie … who, much to Tosh’s astonishment and amusement, actually blushed.  Oh.  This _had_ to be a good story!  Rassilon smiled gently, saying, “I’ll share that story with you children later, my dear.  Right now, I’m more concerned with whatever has Suzie in such a state.”

“I was with Liam,” Suzie began, trembling as she finally drew to a halt in front of the three.  Suzie … was … trembling. Tosh’s sense that something was horribly wrong only intensified, especially when the former second in command of Torchwood Cardiff forced herself to continue, “I’ll spare you the details of what we were doing, mainly because it was none of your damn business.”  But there was no heat in her voice, and Tosh realized the other woman was stalling.  The tech felt Ianto’s fingers lace with her own, a sign that her friend was picking up on Suzie’s distress, and was as uncomfortable with it as Tosh herself.  Suzie swallowed hard before saying, “There’s no easy way to say this, my Lord President … but Jack has been captured.  They don’t think it was the Families, but I don’t think we should ignore that possibility.  Especially not since they also have Captain Steven Rogers … also known as Captain America.”

Captain America?  Oh.  Of _course_.  She could see how the Families would want to get their hands on a man like Captain Steve Rogers.  As a little girl, Tosh heard countless stories about the young soldier from her grandfather, who in turn heard those stories from men under his command or other soldiers who encountered the ‘super-soldier.’  Her grandfather’s favorite story to tell (and Tosh’s favorite to hear) was the story of Captain Roger’s assault against the HYDRA base following the death of his best friend and how he plunged a HYDRA plane bound for New York into the freezing water, sacrificing himself to save millions. 

Her grandfather … her grandfather thought she was still dead, and Tosh realized with a start that she didn’t even know if he was alive or dead.  If he’d died …  Tosh shuddered, pulling her mind away from that train of thought.  She would speak to Rassilon about that later.  Right now, she had to focus on what Suzie was saying.  Well, actually it was Rassilon himself right now … Suzie wasn’t saying much of anything.  She was hugging herself, actually trembling.  Was she frightened … or was she angry?  It was hard to tell, with this new Suzie.  Then again, it was hard to tell with the old Suzie as well, but when Rassilon brought her back, he tied her life force to that of Natalie Tregarth, whose body Tosh used to tell Owen and Jack good-bye.    

Natalie and Suzie were tied together … or rather, their life forces were.  That wasn’t entirely accurate either, because it implied that if something happened to Suzie, Natalie would die.  Either way, that was what was causing Natalie’s strange behavior shortly before Tosh’s arrival, and she wished she could tell Owen and Jack.  Suzie was bleeding over into Natalie, at least until Suzie built walls to protect them both.  Two women more dissimilar, Tosh couldn’t imagine … but there were consequences to everything, and that was a consequence of Suzie using Natalie to save Jack from multiple deaths.  Tosh asked once if that would happen to her, since she also used Natalie’s body.  Rassilon merely inquired if she had Natalie’s permission, and when she acknowledged that she did, he told her that it wasn’t something she needed to worry about.  Tosh didn’t know what to think about that, and so she put it out of her mind as much as she could, choosing instead to focus on her tasks.  To say nothing of the conversation even now going on, half of what she missed.  Dammit.  She _really_ needed to stop doing that.

“I suspect that Lord Rassilon is right.  From what I’ve been able to piece together, going through Mr. Colasanto’s paperwork, it seems like the Families have gone underground for now.  The last thing they would want is to attract attention to themselves by kidnapping someone like Captain Rogers,” Ianto was observing, and Tosh wondered if Rassilon or Suzie saw the tightness around her friend’s mouth when he spoke of the former owner of the compound.  And then she glanced at Rassilon and knew that their captain’s father, at least, noticed.  There was a faint, knowing smile on his face.  Ianto flushed, just a little, but held Rassilon’s eyes defiantly.  Tosh held her breath, but for his own part, the Time Lord merely looked amused at Ianto’s defiance.

He said, “Indeed.  However, the elimination of the Families as a suspect leaves open a question.  Namely, who abducted this young captain and my son, and for what purpose?” Rassilon observed in a silky voice that caused shivers to race down Tosh’s spine.  She wasn’t fooled by the tone at all.  Oh, no.  He was furious and the silkier his voice was, the angrier he was.  Rassilon continued after a moment, “Suzie, you say that you learned about this while you were with Liam.  And he learned this from his cousin Philip?”  Suzie nodded.  Rassilon murmured, “Yes, I’d forgotten that part.”  What part?  The Time Lord added a bit hastily, “Never mind, that’s not important at the moment.”

“Will we do anything?  I mean, to save Jack and Captain Rogers?” Ianto asked, choosing to focus on the issue that Tosh was most concerned with.  Rassilon looked at the archivist, once more looking amused.  Ianto, on the other hand, did not.  He looked worried and just a bit mulish.  And that, in turn, made Tosh worry about him.  One reason Rassilon left her unsettled was that while there was a strong resemblance between him and his son, Rassilon lacked a great deal of what Tosh now recognized as Jack’s gentleness.  He loved his son … Tosh saw for herself on many occasions just how much he loved Jack, and heard stories from Suzie about what Rassilon did to a woman who caused harm to Jack during Miracle Day … but he was a Time Lord before he was Jack’s father, and if letting Jack be hurt kept the timelines intact, he would do just that.  She wasn’t sure if Ianto understood that yet … in truth, she wasn’t sure if she understood it yet.  There were times when she hated Jack for seeming to be a cold bastard, but the truth was, Jack wasn’t nearly as ruthless as his father.

“What would you have us do, Ianto Jones?” Rassilon asked in a deceptively gentle voice.  Tosh heard an echo of Jack asking what else he could have done, after he let Jasmine go with the Faeries.  To his credit, Ianto merely swallowed hard.  And instead of verbally attacking Rassilon, asking how dare he not ride immediately to his son’s rescue, Ianto actually thought about Rassilon’s question.  Again, it was something that was hard for Tosh to understand.  Jack was his son, his child, his little boy … never mind that Jack was now apparently two thousand years old or thereabouts … Rassilon described himself as being as old as dirt.  To him, Jack was still painfully young … to him, they were infants.

“Is there anything we _can_ do?” Ianto asked plaintively and Rassilon’s face softened.  He moved forward a few steps to put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, forcing Ianto to look at him.  Suzie cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to her.  There was a flash of suspicion in Ianto’s eyes, but he said nothing … just stared at her expectantly.  And Rassilon … well, his smile told Tosh nothing.  In some ways, he was even more enigmatic than his son, and that was saying a lot.

“From what Phil told Liam, it sounds like this was part of a plan on Jack’s part.  He and the rest of his new Torchwood team … I know, I’m over-reacting …” Suzie rambled.  Wait, _what_?  Jack was captured on purpose?  She only had to look at Ianto, who sacrificed himself so she could escape the cannibals, to realize that it wasn’t as far-fetched as she might have thought.  And unlike Ianto, Jack didn’t stay dead.  Suzie looked at the three of them, sighing, “Maybe I should start at the beginning?”  Rassilon merely nodded and Suzie explained, “As I was saying, I was with Liam when his cousin called.  Phil has been staying with the Tregarths ever since he stabilized from the injury that nearly killed him …”

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

It had taken Steve Rogers exactly ten minutes to realize that despite his flirtatious nature (Steve wondered a bit irreverently if the man would even flirt with a stick), Captain Jack Harkness was more like Steve than he was different.  He actually reminded Steve a great deal of Bucky (Bucky, falling and falling and falling through the snow, and oh God, Steve couldn’t reach him, couldn’t hold him, Bucky, I’m so sorry) … at least in some ways.  He had Bucky’s roguish charm and his coloring.  But his eyes were far older than his face, and he used slang that Steve hadn’t heard since he woke up in that S.H.I.E.L.D … whatever you wanted to call it.  Since he woke up.  From what Director Fury and others told him, Steve was the only success of the super soldier program … on the other hand, Director Fury lied when he found it expedient.

He hadn’t asked Jack about … well, any of what he was thinking yet.  For one thing, it really wasn’t any of his business and for another, whenever they weren’t plotting against their captors, Jack was resting.  They’d been particularly vicious when they attacked him in the parking lot.  Steve didn’t know if Jack deliberately antagonized them … it was entirely possible … but it didn’t matter.  Steve watched the beating in horror, and it wasn’t a fight, it was a beating.  Jack claimed that he didn’t need a lot of sleep (Steve could relate), but he also didn’t argue when Steve gently urged him down until he reclined half against the trailer wall and half against Steve himself.  He flirted with the super soldier even as he drifted into a light doze.

Jack was an odd one to be sure.  He flirted with Steve, up until he realized that it made the blond soldier uncomfortable … and then just stopped.  Or, tried to stop.  It seemed as if flirting was first or second nature to Jack, but he tried to avoid making Steve uncomfortable and that counted for a great deal with Steve.  The world changed so much while he was … asleep (a Capsicle, as Tony termed him).  He was aware that Jack liked men as much as he liked women (possibly more, though Steve wasn’t able to quantify that, and really, Steve didn’t regard it as any of his business), and that there were always men who liked other men.  He was aware of it, but for now, that just wasn’t something that was important to him.  He would put it away to deal with later, when there wasn’t a job to do.

Which brought him to their captor … who didn’t leave Steve alone, or his brothers-in-arms, and that made it Steve’s business.  Well, he supposed that he made it his business, but that was mere semantics at the moment.  They’d been traveling for about two hours, which put them in northern Oklahoma or maybe southern Colorado.  People traveled faster nowadays … something else that Steve was still getting used to.  Against his shoulder, Jack murmured, “We’re starting to slow down … making more turns.  You feel it?”  Steve nodded and Jack went on, “The next phase is about to start.  The rest of my unit should be behind us, maybe by thirty minutes.”

“I don’t know if the rest of the Avengers are coming, but I don’t think we should count on it.  To the best of their knowledge, I’m still on a road trip,” Steve murmured.  To his astonishment, Jack actually snickered and Steve had to think for a moment before he asked his question.  Namely …  He drawled, “Jaaaack … do you know something that I don’t know?”  Steve nearly face-palmed when the snicker turned into a full-blown laugh, followed by coughing and Jack pressing his arm against his injured ribs when they obviously protested the rough treatment.

“That’s a loaded question, if ever I heard one!” Jack snickered … actually, no, that was more of a giggle than a snicker.  Steve glowered down at the dark head, and Jack continued, “I’m actually not sure if I should tell you what I know.  Not sure how badly it’ll screw up the timelines, or if it matters at this point.”  Timelines?  Steve shook his head.  He wasn’t going to ask.  He was fairly certain that he didn’t want to know.  It would be akin to asking Stark (both Howard and Tony) to explain one of their inventions.  And a moment later, it didn’t matter, because Jack added, “You know, I’m going to tell you anyhow.  I’m pretty sure that you’ll be finding out shortly anyhow.”

Find out what?  Okay, now Jack was getting on his nerves with this … whatever this was.  His companion said, “I would bet my entire recent inheritance that Nick Fury knows about your abduction by the end of the day, if he doesn’t know already.”  What?  Jack lifted his head, smiling a bit mischievously (and his expression once more reminded Steve of Bucky), and added, “You see, my team has had a houseguest for the last several weeks, ever since shortly after the Battle of New York … a houseguest with ties to SHIELD.”

Ties … to SHIELD?  Steve felt a faint stirring, that he determinedly squelched, because aside from very rare cases, the dead didn’t come back to life.  But there was no ridicule in Jack’s bright eyes, only unending compassion as the other man continued, “Phil Coulson is alive, Steve.  He died, but the medics got him back and he’s been staying with us for the last several weeks.  As soon as they realized that the two of us were together … it’s just a question of time before Phil contacts Fury.”

Steve remembered the agent who had those vintage Captain America cards; he remembered those blood-stained cards that he never had the chance to sign.  He thought, a bit distantly, that he would kill Nick Fury when he got through this.  Jack went on to explain that it was Agent Coulson … Phil … who began the investigation into the rash of disappearances of soldiers and combat veterans in the Southwest.  Jason Martinelli, the oldest grandson of Jack’s friend, gave him the project as a way to keep him distracted and things went from there.  Steve said again that he’d kill Fury when this was all over, only this time he said it aloud.  Something he learned the hard way when Jack observed with more than a touch of amusement, “Worry about Fury later.  We have to work out the best way to deal with our soldier-stealer.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but knew Jack was right.  Fury was a distraction, and right now, he couldn’t afford any distractions from the mission.  He asked, “So what are you thinking?  I’m guessing, based on what you’ve said, that you have some semblance of a plan.”  He was rewarded with another snicker from Jack, followed by another wince, and Steve added with more than a touch of exasperation, “You know you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up.”  He wasn’t prepared for Jack’s smile to dim or for his eyes to darken.  All _riiiiight_ , obviously he just said something that he shouldn’t have, but Steve had no idea what that something was, and Jack wasn’t inclined to educate him.

Instead, the other man replied, “I do.  I have a sneaking suspicion that our host will want to play with us first … we were both attacked, which leads me to believe that it’s a part of the plan.”  Steve nodded his acknowledgment, and Jack went on, “My thought is, we play along … we be the distraction, drawing his attention away from the other guys, while my team rescues the other abductees.”  As yet, he hadn’t told Steve about his team, aside from their names … his second in command in the field was a former CIA agent named Rex Matheson, the doctor was Owen Harper (and there was a curious hitch in Jack’s voice when he mentioned the doctor.  But again, that was none of Steve’s business), and the only other two field-cleared agents were Priscilla Tregarth and Octavia Martinelli, the two oldest daughters of Jack’s friend.  Other names mentioned were Lucas and Jason Martinelli (who were approaching being cleared for field status, because Lucas was a medic and Jason himself was a former soldier); their cousins Adriane and Esther; and their youngest aunt Natalie.  Steve was still sorting out the names, but that would come.

“Again, you have a plan?” Steve asked.  Jack inclined his head and proceeded to outline exactly how things would play out over the next hour or so.  The time-displaced soldier stared at the other man with no small amount of chagrin … but at the same time, he really didn’t have room to talk.  After all, didn’t he use a modified version of the plan to take down HYDRA when he got himself captured by these thugs?  Yeah, pretty much, he did, and he could practically hear Bucky rolling his eyes and Tony Stark making a snarky remark (that was actually a new addition to his vocabulary that he liked … the word ‘snarky’).  Steve asked slowly, “So that’s your plan?  Have us taken to their leader, belittle him or antagonize him until you get slugged, and hope the one who slugs you is the one with the keys?”  Jack nodded brightly and Steve would have rubbed at his forehead in sheer exasperation if he was able.  Still, Jack’s own plan worked so far, and he was a few steps ahead of Steve, so he would play along.  The Avenger asked with a sigh, “And what do you need me to do?”

“First, signal me if you see the guy with the keys.  That’s who I antagonize.  As to how you signal me, we’ll figure something out, even if it’s … ah, never mind.  We’ll work that out as we go along.  Second, when he does slug me, you don’t do a thing.  Understand, Steve?  You don’t do a thing.  You don’t protest, you keep your eyes forward, you don’t interfere,” Jack replied.  Steve started to protest, but Jack pointed out, “Steve, listen to me … you have a reputation.  And one of the good things about reputations, whether they themselves are good or bad, is you can use them to your advantage.”  Steve once more started to protest, and then thought about what Jack was telling him … actually thought about it, and Steve nodded slowly.  Especially when he realized that their ‘host’ didn’t probably didn’t know that he had ‘Captain America.’  He could use that surprise to his benefit. 

“All right.  But I’m going on record as saying I don’t like this.  I don’t like this at all, and I reserve the right to help you from the room if I think you need it,” Steve answered finally.  He was rewarded with a soft huff of laughter from Jack, but Steve wasn’t laughing.  He meant every word that he said.  Right now, he and Jack were a team, and while he couldn’t do anything about bringing Bucky home, not even his body for a funeral, he would be damned if he left Jack behind, in any sense of the word.

“So noted, Captain,” Jack answered, and Steve virtuously ignored the trace of amusement in the older man’s voice.  Jack added, “We’re stopping. It’s show-time, little brother.”  Steve ignored the jolt that shot through his body … not only at the term of endearment, but at the absent way Jack delivered it, as if he wasn’t entirely aware of what he was saying.  He wasn’t sure if Jack ever said things he didn’t entirely mean, but that would wait.  For now, the door of the trailer was rolling up and two thugs were advancing toward them purposefully as the sun blazed into the previously-dark trailer.  It was show-time, all right … and Steve was determined that the curtain would fall on their host, rather than on him and his unexpected companion.

 

TBC


	5. Ordinary and Extraordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack reflects on the aftermath of their meeting with their captor; we check in with Alicia Yates and her fledgling network; while Carlyon begins making plans for the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back again! Thing have been a bit chaotic, but not necessarily in a bad way. Usually. I am the proud new owner of my very first Smartphone! I bought it last Saturday, along with a new plan, and have been playing with it over the last few days … er, that is, I’ve been trying to figure out how it works. It keeps my attention, that’s for sure. I also just finished a book by James Rollins and Rebecca Cantrell, the first book in the Sanguinist series. Yes, I’ve started reading actual books again, thanks to my new glasses. This particular one is called The Blood Gospel, and it got my mind moving once more. If you’ve not read any of Mr. Rollins’ other novels, I highly recommend the Sigma series. However, his earlier books are very good, too. Oh, and the definition of 'bulwark' and 'rampart' come courtesy of the Merriam Dictionary.

Exact location unknown, southeastern Colorado

Same day

 

“I still can’t believe you did that,” Captain America growled as he half-dragged, half-carried Jack Harkness from the house, muttering imprecations under his breath all the while.  Jack would have answered, but he was still in too much pain, and right now, he didn’t want to run the risk of sounding like Mickey Mouse … the Disney Mouse, not Martha’s husband and baby Nightingale’s father.  Steve Rogers continued to grumble under his breath, sounding less like the icon so idolized by children in the forties and fifties and more like a young captain who just saw one of his comrades do something unbelievably stupid.  Which, Jack had to admit, was exactly the case.  Still, he accomplished what he set out to do.

Nearly six hours after his rather painful encounter at the bar (and what was it with bars all of a sudden?), Jack and Steve were brought before the individual behind the abductions … one Theodore Paige, who had assistance from several buddies from high school.  It was then, too, that they learned what was going on … the whole sordid story.  Once again, he was grateful that he had the lenses.  There was nothing like a story told in the criminal’s own words.

The situation was just as he feared … take one Army reject (and really, Jack could see why they rejected him), give him unlimited ‘play space’ in the form of a national park he’d been exploring in and playing in since he was a child and a world-wide catastrophe that destroyed countless businesses … to say nothing of a huge sense of entitlement … and give him a few dozen buddies with chips on their shoulders as well, and you were looking at a disaster for someone.  In this case, it was the men who succeeded where he failed.  Compensation issues were just the tip of the iceberg with this little worm.

And much to Jack’s disgust, the ass actually bragged about what he’d done.  Not that he was entirely surprised … nor was he complaining THAT much, because he knew the rest of the team was seeing this through his eyes, literally.  They were seeing events unfold through his eyes, even as the tracker he planted on the sole female in Dore Paige’s little group would lead the rest of the team to the imprisoned men (and seriously?  With all possible nicknames for ‘Theodore,’ his parents chose ‘Dore’ as a nickname?  It wouldn’t surprise Jack at all if some of his issues started there).  At least some of the men were still alive … maybe even most of them.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jack rasped out when he was sure he could speak without losing what little he’d eaten that day.  Dammit, that _hurt_.  And okay, he was being obnoxious, but she put a little more power behind that kick than was absolutely necessary.  Steve, as Jack hoped, played his part to perfection.  He was angry with both Jack for needling the girl and with the girl for her reaction, and held Jack protectively against his chest (a very nice chest it was, too.  What?  Just because Steve wasn’t even remotely interested, didn’t mean that Jack couldn’t appreciate his … attributes).  Jack found it necessary to change his plan when he realized he wasn’t alone in the trailer … which was pretty much immediately.  Not that this was necessarily a bad thing … it meant Jack would have help in distracting Paige and his little band while the team rescued the prisoners.  Yeah, he was in pain, but his plan was working with just a little adjustment.  Let Paige and his little group think they were in control … that was a good way to make mistakes, as Jack well knew.  No reason he shouldn’t use that lesson against these kids.

Steve didn’t answer, not at first … he was busy looking around, trying to get a feel for where they should go.  Jack didn’t think it mattered, when all was said and done.  Neither of them had any real familiarity with this area and had no idea whom they could trust.  In some respects, Dore Paige and his little band reminded Jack of the cannibals of the Brecon Beacons.  For all that Jack and Steve knew, there could be others involved with this.  At last, however, the time-displaced soldier muttered, “If you could call it that.”

“It _worked_ ,” Jack repeated, his voice a little stronger.  Ahh, the wonders of fifty-first century healing.  Steve glanced at him and Jack smirked a little, telling him, “She has the keys … and now, she has the tracker.  She goes to wherever they’re holding the … to wherever the prisoners are, and my team sets them free.  Meanwhile, we lead Dore a merry chase, because **of course** , we aren’t working with anyone.  It _worked_ , Steve.”  He allowed his scorn to permeate ‘of course,’ before stressing the last three words … in the last few hours before they reached Colorado (and really, it was _so_ worth his current pain, just to see the look of shock on Dore Paige’s face when he realized they knew they were in Colorado, to say nothing of his muttered, ‘ _they always figure that out_!’), Jack quickly learned that Steve preferred being called by his name, rather than ‘Cap.’  Jack opted not to question him about it, or even tease him … it was none of his business, and Steve earned the right to be called what he wanted to be called.

The young man sighed, before nodding in acknowledgment, asking, “Just … give me a little warning next time, will you?  Okay, I get that you couldn’t warn me this time, because you needed my honest reaction, but I can act on occasion.”  Jack nodded his agreement … he’d seen the USO tapes of the Captain America tour.  But he also wanted to use the Captain America mystique to their advantage, and that was exactly what he’d done.  Steve continued, sounding more than a little curious, “Just out of curiosity, how _did_ you know about the rivalry between Oklahoma and Arkansas?”

Jack laughed, the sound a bit strained even to his own ears, but replied, “I’ve lived in Oklahoma for nearly a year, Steve … one of the junior members of my team, Lucas Tregarth, has a friend who lives in Arkansas and I listen to the way they hassle each other.”  Actually, he read it, in the emails that Lucas sometimes read aloud.  Steve muttered something under his breath that Jack pretended not to hear, and the immortal continued, “C’mon.  We have some wannabes we need to lead on a merry chase around the park.”  Steve smiled at that and the two men made their way from the old inn which was now Paige’s headquarters.  Jack just hoped the rest of the team wasn’t far behind them.

He wasn’t worried about himself, or about Steve … Jack always revived and Steve was hard to kill, as he’d proven when he sacrificed himself to save millions during the war.  But the men who were already captured … oh, they _were_ tough.  As tough as they came, but they were neither immortal … nor were they serum-enhanced super-soldiers.  They were human beings, ordinary human beings who were capable of extraordinary things … but still only human beings.  And their time was finite.  Something Carlyon understood as well.  He just hoped it would be enough.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Arkansas-Colorado border

 

 

“All right, everyone, I need a report!  Jack has made contact with the kidnappers … and has planted the tracking device on the foolish girl who carries the keys.  Priscilla, I need you to relay that to the other coaches, especially to Dr. Harper.  I know that he’s been monitoring Jack, but I need more information other than he deliberately aggravated that child so he could plant the device on her.  I know that already, I saw it for myself.  I need more information,” Carlyon Tregarth told those aboard his coach.  His youngest daughter was nodding in agreement or acknowledgment of something her mother said, fingers flying across the keyboard.  Meanwhile, Esther sat across from Natalie, her expression best described as ‘grim.’  Well, well, he had his first volunteer.  This was Esther’s first real field mission, and Carlyon was curious to see how his granddaughter would do.  He nodded to her, and an emotion he couldn’t identify flickered across her face.  However, after a moment, a neutral mask settled over her face … and in some ways, that worried Carlyon far more than her grim expression.

“Right.  Some of this, you’ve already covered, but I’ll repeat it.  Is everyone tuned in, Priscilla?” Esther asked.  Carlyon glanced at his oldest daughter, noticing the barely-concealed wince.  _Don’t push it, Cilla_ , he thought, _she’s still getting used to the idea that you’re her mother.  She may never call you ‘mom,’ and you must accept that_.  However, his daughter merely nodded and Esther went on, “Jack’s signal has been largely stationery during the last several minutes, and that corresponds to what I’ve been seeing from the lenses.  They have stopped … or rather, the truck has … and I’m still triangulating where exactly they’ve stopped.  He’s also planted the tracker on a girl who carries the keys.  I’m sure Owen will chime in with information on his physical condition.”  For the first time since she started speaking, Esther’s face tightened as she added, “But between the beating earlier and what that bitch did, I don’t imagine he’s feeling particularly well.”

 “One thing you’ll come to learn about Jack, my dear girl … he heals quite quickly.  But that doesn’t erase the memory of seeing your … well, your lover being harmed,” Carlyon murmured.  He knew that while she was monitoring the tracker, Esther was also viewing the situation through the lenses … and he heard her growl, ‘ _that bitch is **mine**_ ’ when Paige’s sole female friend took offense at a comment Jack made.  Which was far from the most unpleasant thing Jack ever said to anyone … it was actually quite mild, compared to what Lucas said at the time, but Carlyon knew her kind.  They didn’t take criticism well … particularly not when they’d been gloating only a few minutes before.

 On the other hand, it was amusing to see Lucas stare at his cousin in a mixture of awe and horror.  Really, Lucas should know better by now.  It was always the quiet ones you had to be wary of.  From the speaker in front of Esther, Owen said, “Jack’s fine, Esther.  Probably in pain right now, but he’s fine … and he’ll stay that way.  I can’t say the same about the captives.  Move in too soon, and we run the risk of spooking these pillocks.  Move too late, and the soldiers may die from their injuries or malnourishment or dehydration.  So, what we need to do is figure out where they would be stashing the captives.  We know where the main house is, but that doesn’t mean they’re being kept there.”

 Carlyon mentally thanked the doctor for bringing them back on track.  His oldest granddaughter was showing signs of being just as tenacious as her mother and elder aunt.  That could be a good thing, but not right now.  Sophia murmured, taking up position beside Esther (whether to reassure or to restrain was anyone’s guess), “We have two possibilities.  First, we could send in a few people to reconnoiter.  The problem with that is, from what I could gather from Jack’s conversation with Mr. Paige, very few people have come here since the Miracle.  I don’t think the ‘ _we got lost hiking_ ’ excuse would pass muster.  The other possibility is …”  Sophia never had the chance to finish her sentence.  Lucas inhaled sharply and all eyes turned to him.

 “We are _so_ **stupid** … I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner!  Owen, didn’t you tell me that one of the things saved from the original Hub … I don’t remember what you called it, but it looks a bit like a hair dryer.  You know the one I mean … Adriane stuck it in Esther’s duffel bag while she wasn’t looking, and you convinced Esther to leave it because it might come in handy?” Lucas blurted out excitedly.  There was a moment of silence as both Owen and Carlyon recalibrated their brains … and Owen remembered at more or less the same moment that Carlyon did.  And Esther, Carlyon noticed, looked no more impressed than she did when it happened.

 “Bollocks … you’re right!  Bloody hell, what did Jack call it?  Doesn’t really matter.  The point is …  Carlyon, this thing can tell us exactly where the captives are being held, from a distance.  I mean, we couldn’t do it here, but within a mile or so.  We would need a team of at least two people … one to monitor the tracking device and one to use the … we’ll call it an infrared for the moment,” Owen suggested.  He was in one of the medical coaches, but Carlyon could just about see his eyes shining with relief and joy.

 “I can use the infrared thingy … hush, Jason, I don’t see you coming up with the name.  Jack showed me how to use it in a training exercise.  Unfortunately, one of the buildings we used it on was the stables where Mom and CIA were … reconnecting, after Mom returned from Scotland.  That was something I could have done without seeing,” Lucas added with a shudder.  There was an audible gulp from Rex and a squeak from Octavia.  A small smile appeared on Esther’s face, and Lucas continued, “The only question is who should go.”

 “That’s easy.  At least one of the medical personnel needs to go,” Owen observed.  Carlyon raised an eyebrow, even though the younger man couldn’t see him, and Owen continued (or rather, muttered), “Right, and how creepy is it that I can see Carlyon arching his eyebrows, even though we’re in two separate coaches?”  That drew laughter and a few smiles.  Owen continued after a moment, “Seriously, though … it would be smarter.”

 “I disagree, Owen,” Jason said quietly, drawing the attention of everyone in that coach to him.  He flushed a bit, but forged ahead, “I think the medical personnel should be in the second wave.  Or maybe the third.  The first will be reconnaissance … the second will take out whoever’s inside and not chasing after Jack and Captain Rogers, while the third will contain the medical personnel.”  Carlyon pondered his grandson’s words for a moment, while his wife did a headcount.  There were ten of them in the coaches.  They could make this work, if he paired up people properly.  Sophia gave a very small inclination of her head.

 “All right, then.  Jason’s quite correct … so, he’ll be part of the second wave.  The first wave, the surveillance team will go in and locate the captives.  They do not engage … there will be no engaging until the second wave arrives.  At which point … the gloves are allowed to come off,” Carlyon said, and looked directly at his oldest granddaughter.  For the first time, a real smile crossed Esther’s face.  Carlyon went on, “So, here’s the line-up:  Sophia and Esther will make up the surveillance team.  This is your first real field mission with us, Esther, and I want you paired with a more experienced individual.  I would put you with Rex, but I need him for the second wave.  Rex, you’ll be paired with Jason.  Owen and Lucas will be the third wave.  Octavia, I want you staying with the coach … have things prepared for any casualties we have.  And make sure you have all weapons loaded and within reach.”

 “Where do you want us, Dad?” Priscilla asked quietly as she leaned against the table where Natalie and Ailsa were sitting.  It went without saying that she meant herself and her youngest sister, because Ailsa wouldn’t be going into the field for another fifteen years or so, if then.  Carlyon didn’t speak for a long time, looking at his book-end daughters.  To her credit, despite her slight fidgeting, Natalie didn’t press him for an answer.  And Ailsa … Ailsa continued to draw and color, looking up every once in a while.

 “You two have a completely different assignment.  Lucas, did you and Owen remember to load up the ATV’s?” Carlyon asked and his younger grandson nodded, looking a bit confused.  He wouldn’t stay confused for long, as Carlyon went on, “Right then.  Priscilla … Natalie … I want the two of you to take two of the ATV’s and follow the main force.  Stay back … take your camping gear, just in case.  And Natalie, I want you to take your rifle.  Priscilla, you’re in charge of communication.  When the main force catches up with Steve and Jack, you radio us.”

 It took Sophia a moment to understand what he was planning to do, and then she smiled a rather evil smile.  He smiled back.  Priscilla swallowed hard, but forced a smile of her own, asking, “Well, then, little sister … are you ready for this?”  From Natalie’s expression, he could tell that she was anything but … even so, she squared her shoulders and nodded determinedly.  Priscilla turned back to him, saying, “Not so sure this was your best plan ever, Dad, but we’ll see what we can do.  I’m guessing that Aili will be staying with you?”  Carlyon nodded, winking at his pint-sized granddaughter.  She giggled a little, leaning into her mother.  Natalie kissed the top of her head, but even though her face was turned away from him, her trepidation about her part in this mission showed in every line of her body.

 “It’ll be fine … you’ll be fine.  Just listen to what Priscilla tells you, Nat, and Priscilla, if Natalie’s instincts start screaming at her, listen to what she has to say.  That’s the curious thing about Torchwood and about UNIT … ordinary people find that they are capable of extraordinary things.  Esther has learned that … and you have a little more experience with the extraordinary than she did when she first met Jack.  You’ll be _fine_ , Natalie,” Sophia told her daughters, being sure to emphasize the last sentence.  Natalie nodded, still looking anxious, but willing to trust her mother.  Yes.  Yes, his wife had a point about ordinary people doing extraordinary things.  But that wasn’t limited to Torchwood.  Not by a long shot.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

London, England

 

 

“Mum … what does ‘rampart’ mean?”

Alicia Yates rolled her eyes, not even bothering to turn away from the stove as she replied, “In the first place, look it up … what does the dictionary say?  And in the second, where did you even hear that particular word?”  A quick glance over her shoulder told her that her son was carefully cradling his tablet in his hand.  His tablet, not a book.  Ah well.  He’d left behind spelling words years earlier, and his taste in reading tended toward comic books (or rather, ‘graphic novels’).  Not that there was anything wrong with that … she still picked up her own old comic books on occasion, but Drew still wasn’t a voracious reader, not like his father and grandfather were. 

There was silence from Drew as he went to the dictionary obediently (would wonders never cease), and Alicia returned her attention to dinner.  She read the recipe again … so far so good … and it did smell heavenly.  If this tasted nearly as good as it smelled, she’d have to remember to thank Martha for the recipe.  According to Martha, there’d been a year which no one but a few remembered … including Martha herself and most of her family.  The new mum wouldn’t give any details, just said that she learned a great deal during that Year.  When Alicia broached the subject with her father, he admitted that nothing would surprise him … Martha Jones-Smith was a Companion of the Doctor, and as was said of Anakin Skywalker in the _Star Wars_ prequels, the Doctor had a habit of making the impossible look merely difficult.  Alicia raised her eyebrows at that, asking if he was really comparing a being whom he respected (the Doctor) with a fictional character whom he despised (Anakin).  Her dad merely stammered before glowering at her and saying, ‘ _you know what I mean, young lady_!’  That she did … but it was still fun teasing him.

Alicia had almost forgotten what her son was doing, until he replied, “Got an e-mail from my friend in the States, telling me about a really old show that she was watching with her mum and dad, and the name of the hospital in the show was ‘Rampart.’  I thought it was a funny name for a hospital.”  Old show?  Alicia mentally shook her head.  She’d worry about that later.  Drew continued, reading from the dictionary, “Says here that it’s a tall, thick wall, usually stone or dirt, which is built around a castle or town or something to protect it from attacks.  Mmm … the rest of it says that it can be a protective barrier … a bulwark?  A broad embankment … whatever, I have what I need.  So, a rampart is a wall that shields someplace.  Heh … you know, shield, like Captain America?”  Alicia rolled her eyes again.  Not surprisingly, the Battle of New York earlier in the year fired her son’s imagination and he talked her father into giving him the old Captain America comics he had in his possession.  Alicia asked why he had Captain America comics, rather than Captain Britain comics, and he just shrugged.  That meant she might eventually get that story … or she might not.  It all depended on what her father was willing to share with her … and if it was classified.

She should have expected the next question to come out of her son’s mouth, as Drew observed, “So another word for a rampart is a bulwark, but what’s a bulwark?”  If Alicia hadn’t been making dinner, she would have face-palmed.  As it was, she directed a glower over her shoulder at her fifteen year old.  Drew actually blushed and squeaked out, “Right.  Look it up.”  Alicia shook her head, returning her attention to the recipe.  Maybe one of these days, he’d think.  That was what Dad always told her … ‘ _you weren’t so different when you were fifteen and sixteen, luv.  He’ll grow out of it_.’  Oh, she hoped so!

 There were another few moments of blessed silence, while Drew found the entry in the dictionary.  Alicia murmured to herself, familiarizing herself with the last few steps of the recipe.  Martha was right.  This was a very easy recipe to follow.  She was distracted when her son murmured, sounding a bit disappointed, “Oh.  It’s more or less the same thing.”  Well, yes … didn’t he just say that ‘rampart’ was another word for ‘bulwark’ a few minutes earlier?  On the other hand, she acknowledged, she was only hearing what he was reading.  Drew continued after a moment, “Oh.  This is interesting.  So, it can be part of a ship  … or, a support structure.  Oh.  That does make a difference.”

“And that’s why I tell you to look things up,” Alicia admonished as she stepped away from the stove.  Her son gave her a sheepish grin, and she continued, “You have about thirty minutes before dinner, so take Avenger out before you wash your hands.”   At the sound of her name, their Pyrenean puppy lifted her head and her tail began thumping against the floor.  Avenger.  They’d named a female puppy Avenger.  Alicia shook her head fondly as the teenager and the (still) growing puppy raced out of the house.  There were times when Avenger was better-behaved than Drew and she ate just about as much. 

And, of course, Drew left out the dictionary, rather than putting it away.  Alicia gave the stove one last glance, before walking over to the dinner table where the dictionary was laid out.  Old show, Rampart was the name of the hospital … oh.  Oh, how silly of her!  She smiled to herself.  He could have only been talking about _Emergency!_   She’d never watched the show herself, but her mother had several of Julie London’s records and the young Alicia grew up listening to those records.  Her mother was so impressed that she was an actress and a singer, even though she’d never watched the show she was on.  Funny.  She hadn’t thought of those in years.  Funny, what could bring memories to the fore.

As she picked up the dictionary, she glanced down at the words Drew was looking up … or rather, the most recent word.  Bulwark.  Support.  Support, like the network she was trying to create for the next time someone or something took over the world.  Oh.  _Oh_.  Alicia gently placed the dictionary on the table once more, sitting down at the same time.  Kate told her on more than one occasion that she would know the name of the network when she heard it.  She might not say the word or phrase herself, but she would know it.  Alicia whispered, tasting the words on her tongue, “Bulwark.  The Bulwark Network.  No.  No, just Bulwark.”

She closed the dictionary, much more reverently than she originally intended.  Was she ready to tell anyone about this?  Martha or Kate, or even her father?  No.  No, she needed a little more time.  This was different from anything else she ever did before, and she wanted to be sure.  This was … she didn’t want to say, ‘ _the most important thing she’d ever done_ ,’ because she’d already done that … she raised her son.  But this was … different.  She wanted to be ready, because when she told someone else the name, it wouldn’t entirely be hers any more.  Maybe it was silly, but … she wasn’t ready to share this with anyone.  Not even with her father, not even with Kate.  Maybe later.  Maybe after dinner, maybe …  Her thoughts were cut off when the door seemed to implode off its hinges and both Drew and Avenger raced inside, Drew yelling, “When do we eat, I’m hungry!”

Maybe she’d need to call someone to fix the door … or maybe she should make Drew clean up after himself?  A quick check of the door informed her that the first possibility wouldn’t be necessary (not this time, at least) … however, the second one would.  Not that she was particularly surprised by this.  Again, she rolled her eyes (second nature when it came to dealing with a teenager of either sex) and called up the stairs, “Andrew!  Get back down here and clean up after yourself!”  Alicia bit back a smile when he actually whined that he’d just washed his hands, sounding more like a five year old than a fifteen year old, but told him, “You can wash them again, you have another fifteen minutes before dinner is ready.  Do it.”

She retreated into the kitchen, ignoring the stomping feet and the muttering now coming from the teenager.  As she reached the stove, Alicia felt a cold wet nose and soft fur rubbing along her ankle.  She looked down to see Avenger, giving her the puppy dog eyes.  At least she had an excuse … she actually was a puppy.  Alicia laughed and reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears, saying softly, “It’s alright, baby, I’m not mad at you.  I’m not even mad at him, just irritated.  C’mon then, girl, let’s get your food poured.  No, this isn’t for you, silly … that’s people food, and I don’t want you to have it just yet.”  She wasn’t sure if it would be healthy for a dog, much less a growing puppy, and needed more time to do research. 

Avenger followed her happily over to her bowl.  Much to Alicia’s amusement, the pup continuously poked her snout into the bowl as the mother poured, but didn’t start eating until she pulled back and closed the bag.  _She can be taught_ , Alicia thought, musing on a mishap that occurred shortly after they brought Avenger home. A pity that the same couldn’t be said about particular humans, but that was their problem.  She couldn’t do anything about the Families.  If they came back, they came back … but Alicia would do what was within her power.  She scratched between Avenger’s ears once more as the pup began to eat hungrily, and rose to her feet, returning to the sink to wash her own hands.

She murmured again, “Bulwark.”  It wasn’t glamorous or chic or mysterious or exotic, but it didn’t need to be.  It said exactly what it was … a perfectly ordinary word that described perfectly ordinary people doing perfectly ordinary things; possibly under extraordinary circumstances.  Alicia smiled to herself as Drew once more raced upstairs to wash his hands.  She had the name of her network.  And it was good.  It was more than good … it was _perfect_.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had planned for a conversation between Ianto and Rassilon in this chapter, but neither of them were being especially cooperative, something I should be used to by now. That’ll likely happen in the next chapter, which should see the entrance of the Avengers. As Alicia says, the old show that Drew and his American friend were discussing was Emergency!, a show which aired from 1972 to 1979. It debuted when I was eighteen months old, and my parents have told me that Randolph Mantooth, who played Paramedic Johnny Gage was my first crush. I would toddle up to the TV when he was on, and pat the screen. It’s been airing on retro channels recently and rekindled my love for the show.


	6. The Lost Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Jack encounter a pointed delay; the Avengers learn about their missing captain; while Ianto gets the shovel talk from Rassilon on Jack’s behalf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Halloween is past, and it’s time to start ramping up for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’ve started my Christmas shopping … the last few years, I’ve waited ‘til the last minute, so this is a Very Good Thing. Oh yes, and it was ‘fall back’ this weekend. This is nice, since I won’t be leaving for work in the dark and I won’t have sun glare to deal with coming home. As to the conversation between Ianto and Rassilon ... in every story I’ve ever read (aside from two), Jack’s getting the shovel talk. I thought it only reasonable that Ianto get the talk this time. That doesn’t mean they’ll be getting back together any time soon … but Rassilon insisted that he should do this if they do get back together, and I conceded. Father’s prerogative, after all.

Future American Flat Holm, Nevada

A Few Hours Before Sunset

 

 

During his years in Torchwood … both London and Cardiff … Ianto Jones saw and experienced many things.  Some breathtaking … some terrifying … and some that were a weird combination of the two.   Not surprisingly, much of that also involved Jack.  Then again, that was a truth Ianto accepted long ago.  Jack was always a mass of contradictions.  It was one of the (many) things that drew Ianto to him.  However, nearly everything that Ianto saw in Torchwood (aside from the Cybermen, because he would never stop having nightmares about that horrific day or about what he might have unleashed when he tried to save Lisa) paled beside Rassilon, Lord President of Gallifrey, First among Time Lords and most terrifying of all to Ianto, Jack’s father.

In the weeks since his resurrection, Ianto found himself lapsing back into old patterns.  It was, Suzie observed, a defense mechanism.  She noted this one day when Tosh commented on that.  Both Tosh and Ianto stared at her in shock, and Suzie snorted, “Please … you think I can’t tell a defense mechanism when I see one?  Ianto always does it … he retreats, withdraws as a means to protect himself.  There’s no actual danger here, aside from Rassilon, but he’s doing it to gather information this time around … again, to protect himself and probably to protect you as well.”

Of course, Suzie was one hundred percent correct, as Ianto acknowledged, and the young woman retorted, “Of course I am!  Just because I let you get away with it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t notice what you were doing when you first joined us.  I wasn’t sure about the reason for it, and honestly, I didn’t care at the time … but I knew you were doing it.”  Ianto was left gaping at Suzie, who had taken on the role of the annoying big sister of their odd little family ever since he awakened (which left them all as Rassilon’s children … dammit … and Koschei as their crazy uncle, something which terrified Ianto even more).  She shook her head with a tiny, amused smile … before closing his mouth by gently nudging his chin up. 

But she was right … about the defense mechanism and about the reason he was doing it.  Ianto died in Jack’s arms nearly three years earlier, and now he was back.  He died in London and when he woke up, he was in Nevada in the United States.  Suzie was quietly taking care of a new identity, to protect him against deportation (which happened to Gwen, she gleefully informed him and Tosh.  That was one thing that hadn’t changed, evidently.  This Suzie was more thoughtful and more interested in taking care of the people around her, but she still resented/hated Gwen Cooper).  She shooed him away every time he tried to help her, and so he spent the majority of his time exploring his new home … partly to explore and partly to get a handle on how this would work as an American Flat Holm.

Ianto’s mind circled around to those all-important three words:  his new home.  He was still Torchwood … in truth, he likely always would be.  And that meant it was still likely that he would die young.  And that, in turn, meant that it was unlikely that he would be returning to Wales or even the United Kingdom any time soon, and Ianto wasn’t sure how he felt about that.  He was grateful to be alive … beyond grateful.  But he would never see his sister or Mica or David again.  He wasn’t even sure if he would ever see Jack again.  He had Tosh, yes … and according to Suzie, the previous owner of this compound, a former lover of Jack’s, had men in Wales watching over Rhiannon, Mica and David.  Why, Ianto asked, and Suzie shrugged, dark eyes warm with compassion as she replied simply, ‘ _because Jack loved you, and Angelo wronged Jack.  He spent the rest of his life atoning for that, by watching over Jack and watching over those whom Jack loved_.’ 

“I am often finding you out here, Ianto Jones … although, to be fair, it’s usually much later.  The view of the mountains at sunset seems to fascinate you,” a familiar voice intoned and Ianto half-turned as Rassilon joined him.  His expression was wistful, and Ianto wondered about that.  He wondered what Rassilon was seeing.  The Time Lord went on, “Then again, from what little I saw of your home country, it seems that the mountains of Wales are far different than the mountains of Nevada.  These are far younger mountains than the ones you’re accustomed to.  Both mountain ranges are younger than I, however.”  This was said rather matter-of-factly.  Ianto glanced at him, once more wondering exactly how old Rassilon was. 

But he didn’t ask.  He never asked.  Instead, he observed, “I like looking at them.”  Really, there was nothing else to say.  Instead, he chose to ask a question that he’d wanted to ask ever since he awoke in Tosh’s arms, querying, “What was Jack like as a child?  I know that he grew up on the Boeshane Peninsula with his foster family, but you must have watched him to some degree.”  As Jack himself did with his daughter Alice, now lost to him forever, and Ianto shuddered.  He’d listened in horror as Rassilon told them what Jack did to drive away the 456, and Ianto was still coming to grips with that information, and with his own emotions over that revelation.

And so, he did what he always did when he wasn’t ready to deal with something … he put it in a box and then put it away.  Just in time, too, because Rassilon answered slowly, “The years when Jack was growing up … that was a complicated time period for me, because at the same time, I was fighting the Time War and there’s also the matter of the Time Lock.  Don’t try to think about it, it’ll break your brain.  Temporal mechanics … or, as the Doctor is inclined to say, ‘ _timey-wimey-wibbly-wobbly_.’  Which is typical of him.”  Ianto rolled his eyes at that and Rassilon added ruefully, “My thoughts as well.  In any event, I watched over him to the best of my ability … but most important of all, I was there when he was born.”

Ianto swallowed hard, because Rassilon’s voice had taken on a dreamy quality, reminding the young Welshman that as powerful as Rassilon was, he was still someone’s tad.  The Time Lord said softly, “We transferred Jack from my consort into a woman of the Boeshane Peninsula, a woman who was recently married.  She didn’t know it at the time, but there was a blockage in her body that was preventing her from getting pregnant.  Carrying Jack, and giving birth to him, removed that obstacle.  And oh, he was so beautiful, Ianto Jones … so very beautiful.”

The young man didn’t doubt that at all, and Rassilon went on, “When he was placed in my arms, wailing … he quieted immediately.  He stared up at me with those beautiful eyes … and he smiled.  Oh, his foster father protested, saying that babies didn’t smile … but I knew … oh, I knew, Ianto Jones-my son was smiling at me.  I knew then, and remembered again when I learned of the Atrocity, that I would do anything for him.  When I catch up with the Families, they’ll learn that the rage of a father is just as potent as the rage of a mother.”  Ianto swallowed hard and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“That’s the real reason I can’t see Jack … isn’t it?”  Ianto wasn’t sure if he was asking or stating.  Rassilon stared at him for a long time, before returning his attention to the far mountains.  Ianto opened his mouth, before closing it again … he really wasn’t certain what he wanted to say.  And Rassilon began to speak in a strange language … Gallifreyan, more than likely.  Ianto never heard Rassilon’s native tongue, but it was a logical assumption.

“You cannot see Jack, because it is not yet time for you to see him.  There are things he must do … and things you must do.  I am a Time Lord, Ianto Jones.  I see all of Time.  I see what must be, and I see what could be.  You cannot see Jack, because that is how it is written.  That does not mean you will not encounter him again.  That doesn’t mean that you will become lovers again when you do.  Although … if you do, it is long past I said this,” Rassilon murmured and turned to face Ianto more fully.  The young man shuddered, because he’d always thought that Jack’s eyes were ancient.  But his father’s eyes were beyond ancient, beyond timeless, beyond everything Ianto ever thought he knew about the universe.

“There may come a time when you and Jack start a new relationship.  Jack is an adult, and can make his own decisions.  He’s also more than capable of taking care of himself.  However, he is still my son … still my youngest child.  All lovers hurt one another … it’s the way of the world, the way of the universe, the truth of things.  But I tell you this now, Ianto Jones … if you ever hurt my son, you will regret it.  I will not tell you what I will do to you, but I can promise it _will_ be painful and it _will_ be creative.”  Ianto swallowed hard, because the threats … no, they were promises, _not_ threats, and they were issued in a very calm, very conversational tone of voice, and there was no doubt in Ianto’s mind that he would do just that.  Koschei said there were times when the father and the Lord President were one and the same.  This was such a time.

Ianto only managed to force out, “I understand.”  And he did.  Rassilon was Jack’s father, but even more importantly, to Rassilon, Jack was his son … he was his little boy.  His own relationship with his father was … troubled, to put it kindly, but he knew from watching Johnny and David just how important that really was.  As Rassilon said … Jack could take care of himself.  He didn’t need anyone to watch out for him, didn’t need anyone to protect him, but that wasn’t the point.  The point was, he deserved both of those things … and so much more.  He looked at Rassilon more closely and said firmly, “I understand.”

Rassilon smiled at him and responded, “Good.”  Something inside Ianto’s chest relaxed and for the first time since he’d died, he could breathe once more.  Rassilon repeated, putting his hand on Ianto’s shoulder, “Good.  Then you’re ready.”  Ianto blinked.  Ready?  _Ready for what_?  Rassilon smiled (and oh God, he had Jack’s smile), answering the young man’s unspoken question, “You’re ready to see your Lisa again.”  To see … _wait, what_?  Rassilon’s smile broadened and he said quietly, “There are more things to heaven and earth than is dreamed of in your philosophy.  Your playwright William Shakespeare said that once, and I quite like that.  Come.  You’ll see your Lisa again … and meet yourself.”  Stunned, Ianto took the proffered hand … and the world around him changed.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTW

 

 

By Steve’s count (and judging from the position of the sun in the sky), they’d been traveling for about three hours.  By Jack’s reckoning, his own team was moving into position.  The other captain kept pace with Steve easily, though he just as easily deflected Steve’s questions about his past.  That didn’t lessen Steve’s curiosity, of course … but he respected his companion’s wishes.  For his own reasons, whatever they were, Jack didn’t want to talk about his past.  There were shadows in his eyes, far darker than Steve’s own, and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack was far older than he seemed.

In the months since his awakening, Steve had conversations with therapists on almost a daily basis.  He couldn’t get people to understand that he didn’t need to talk about the changes he saw when he awoke.  Talk wouldn’t change the facts, it wouldn’t change that nearly everyone he’d loved was gone.  He didn’t need to talk about his feelings … he needed to process the changes.  That was everything, including himself.  It wasn’t until after the Battle of New York that he had that chance … and then, he encountered these wannabes, as Jack called them with such disdain.

That reminded him … he observed as Jack finished up a story (that was no doubt edited), “Just what were you doing at a bar at nine in the morning, anyhow … aside from getting beaten up?”  And Steve was curious about that most of all … he’d witnessed most of the attack, and saw Dore Paige’s female friend knee him in the groin only a few hours earlier.  And yet, here was Jack, more fine than not.  That was another secret that Jack was keeping, but that was a secret he could keep a little longer.  It didn’t put either of their lives at risk … it could keep.

Jack glowered at him half-heartedly before replying, “That was on the list of bars where the service members were all taken.”  Steve bobbed his head in acknowledgment.  Yes, he knew that.  Jack continued, “Before I left the homestead this morning, I sabotaged the car I was driving, to make sure it broke down near that bar.”  Now, Steve was starting to understand.  Jack explained further, “I knew that the damage to the car would mean that I would need to stay in the car overnight.  If nothing else, they would come for me in the night.  I wasn’t expecting them to jump right then and there.  I know I’m irresistible, but even so …”

“Modest, too,” Steve quipped, though he’d realized very quickly that Jack used his charm and flirtatious nature as a distraction.  Jack merely smirked and Steve continued, “It sounds to me, based on what I was hearing in the meeting with Paige, that he was putting pressure on his spies in these towns to find more playthings for him.  Otherwise, they probably would have stuck to the script.  He really has no clue, does he … has no idea that he’s attracted the attention of people he’d rather not have?”  He didn’t mean the Avengers or Jack’s unit, but himself and Jack.  The other captain was silent for several moments … moments that Steve used to look around them.  He and the Howling Commandos used booby traps during the War, and he’d be a fool to think that this forest wasn’t similarly booby-trapped.  Steve Rogers was many things … stubborn and unwilling to back down were at the top of that list, but one thing he wasn’t, was a fool.

“No clue whatsoever,” Jack confirmed, “in fact, he and his group remind me of kids playing at being soldiers.”  Steve thought about that for a moment, before nodding his agreement.  Yes, that was a good description of their captors.  Under other circumstances, Steve would have felt sorry for the children who attracted their attention … but these weren’t ordinary circumstances.  In the first place, they weren’t really children … they were adults who behaved like children.  That was bad enough, but they were targeting men who were by far better than they were … and they were targeting them because they were better.  That made about as much sense as Steve hating Bucky while they were growing up because Bucky was bigger and stronger.  So, no … no, he had no sympathy for these immature lunks.

He also wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have been, something he would never forgive himself for.  Only Jack’s indrawn breath, growled, ‘ _move_!’ and the impact of Jack’s solid body connecting with his own warned him that something terrible was about to happen.  Something terrible did happen.  One minute, Steve was walking at Jack’s side … and the next, he was flat on his back, wind knocked out of him as he stared up into the blue sky dazedly.  The sound of someone trying to breathe through blood broke through his daze, and Steve rolled to his side.  Everything was forgotten as he crawled to his companion’s side.  Jack, like Steve, lay on his back.  But unlike Steve, he had a half dozen stakes/spears/whatever you wanted to call them, piercing his torso.

“Jack!” the super-soldier choked out, slipping his hand around the nape of Jack’s neck, eyes sweeping up and down Jack’s body, trying to decide the best way to save his new friend.  But how did you save a person in this condition?  One stake had caught Jack in the chest, breaking his ribs and puncturing his lung … two more tore through each shoulder … one was embedded in his thigh, another in his hip, while the final was lodged firmly in his abdomen, just above his belt.  Steve looked at Jack’s face again almost desperately, trying to find the words to reassure his friend that he wouldn’t let him die in such a way that he wasn’t lying to the man.  But Jack’s face, filled as it was with pain, held no fear.

“Don’t leave me out … out where … _augh_ … where anyone can … find me.  Steve, please,” Jack gasped, his sentence ending with a groan as he coughed.  Steve cringed, seeing the blood spilling down from Jack’s lips.  Jack was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it, just as there was nothing he could have done for Bucky, decades earlier.  Jack rasped out, his eyes starting to slide shut, even though Steve could see how hard he was fighting it, “Steve, please … please promise … you won’t … leave me where … anyone can find me.”

“I promise … I promise.  Just rest, okay?  It’s getting close to night, and I need to build us a shelter.  Just hold on, okay?” Steve all but begged.  Jack closed his eyes, but he still breathed, and for Steve, that was all he could ask.  The displaced soldier immediately set to work on a lean-to, remembering the times he did this with his Commandos.  He grew up in the city, as did Bucky, but that wasn’t true of the rest of their unit.  They had people from all over the country (and really, the world), and Steve learned as much from them as he did from Howard and Peggy.  He prayed that those lessons would buy him time to save Jack.  That was all he asked … just a little more time.  He failed Bucky … he would be damned if he failed Jack, as well.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

“Okay, so what you’re telling me … ‘scuse me, telling _us_ … is that the Capsicle was on a one-man cross-country tour on his cycle, and got his super-soldier ass abducted by a group of greasy kids with entitlement issues … and he did this on _purpose_?” Tony Stark demanded, voice rising with incredulity and maybe a touch of worry as he stared at Colonel Nick Fury.  The billionaire playboy/philanthropist had a way of putting things … cutting through the bullshit … the likes of which Nick had never seen.

“I wouldn’t have put it in exactly those terms … but yes.  That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fury answered and Stark stormed away from his desk, swearing under his breath.  The rest of the Avengers, aside from Thor, were gathered in his office, wearing varying expressions of concern.  Fury took a deep breath, saying, “After the Battle of New York, Captain Rogers requested leave, leave that was granted.  He had a great deal to work through, a great deal to get used to.  That request was granted, and as Stark pointed out so kindly, he took a motorcycle tour through the country as part of the working through process.”

“You weren’t in touch with Captain Rogers?” Natasha Romanov asked and Fury shook his head.  No, as he explained to the female assassin … at the captain’s request, the only form of contact was in a weekly phone call from whatever state he was in at the time.  The World Council hadn’t wanted to honor that request, but Fury overrode them.  This was the absolute least they owed Captain Rogers after everything he’d done from the moment the serum was injected into his body until the Battle of New York.  Agent Romanov continued, “So how do you know what’s happened to him?”

Fury wasn’t about to tell the Avengers that Phil Coulson was alive … at least, not just yet.  He preferred to be in a different state when that was revealed, both literally and figuratively.  Instead, he chose another path, asking of his team, “Have you ever heard of Torchwood?”  Stark stiffened, Romanov tilted her head to one side, Hawkeye frowned … and of all people, it was Banner who smiled.  All right.  That was the last person Fury would have expected to know of Torchwood, much less look pleased about it.

“Torchwood?  Torchwood has been in contact with you?  I hope Captain Harkness is still alive … he was a big help to me on several occasions,” Banner replied.  Fury nearly swallowed his tongue and very carefully avoided saying anything about Jack Harkness and his inability to stay dead.  And he had the very strong sense that Howard never told his son or his wife about the smart-ass who occasionally acted as a liaison between SHIELD and Torchwood in the early days of the former.  According to Howard’s stories, Harkness was the only person after Cap’s plane went down who could make Peggy Carter smile.

“Rumor has it that Torchwood is the one who drove off the things that were making the children speak in unison a few years ago … and that they’re the ones who ended the Miracle,” Romanov observed, and everyone in the room did a full body shudder at the mention of the Miracle.  Fury knew that Stark spent most of those two months, trying to figure out what caused the Miracle; while Romanov and Barton scoured every lead they could find about who was responsible for it.  No doubt, those months were the source of Romanov’s statement.

“I can confirm both of those … and set your mind at rest, Dr. Banner.  In fact, Captain Harkness is with Captain Rogers at the moment.  He heard about the same disappearances as Cap, and his branch of Torchwood decided to investigate,” Fury answered.  Banner nodded, looking relieved, and Fury made a mental note to check into what Harkness had done for the gentle doctor/rage monster.  Most of his contacts at UNIT had issues with Torchwood as a whole, and didn’t think too much of Harkness … emphasis on ‘ _most_.’ 

“Okay, so Harkness is with Gramps … I’m not hearing anything that would explain why a) they’re together or b) why we’re not on our way to join them.  These brats have our Capsicle, and I for one think we should be getting him back.  Immediately, if not sooner,” Stark bit out.  Fury had the distinct impression that Stark was toning down the language … not because of Romanov’s presence.  Then again, it was hard to tell with Stark.  The man in question repeated, “He’s _our_ Capsicle, they _can’t_ have him.”

“The odds are good that they don’t realize it’s Captain America, Stark,” Barton observed quietly from his place beside Romanov.  All eyes turned to him, and the archer went on, “Think about it.  Up until recently, no one even knew that Captain America was even back … hell, I’m willing to bet that most people didn’t remember anything about him.  Their parents or grandparents would remember, but that was way before their time.  I don’t know anything about these kids, but wouldn’t it be better if they didn’t know?  Better for Cap, at least.”

“There’s also the matter of what they’re doing with these men,” Banner observed quietly.  All eyes shifted to him, and the doctor shifted uncomfortably, but forged ahead, “There has to be a reason why these people are abducting service members … I’m not as concerned with how.  As a scientist and physician, I know there are ways to take down even the strongest man, both mentally and physically.  Right now, I’m more concerned with the why?”

Still a bit wary of Banner, Romanov nodded, observing, “He has a good point, sir.  But regardless of the why, regardless of the how, and as much as it pains me to say this … Tony is right.  These people, whoever they are?  They have our captain.”  Fury shifted his focus to the sole female of the team, before looking over at her partner in crime, the largest part of why Romanov was even in SHIELD, much less among the Avengers.  Clint Barton was nodding his agreement, face set in determined lines.

“They have our captain, and we want him back.  Do we know their last location, sir?” Barton asked.  Fury checked the most recent information from Coulson, who was remaining at the Tregarth home with the middle granddaughter.  Fury was almost glad he wasn’t there (although he’d probably want to be, when the Avengers learned the truth about Coulson’s survival) … it seemed that Adriane Tregarth reminded Coulson rather strongly of Dr. Foster’s young assistant, Darcy Lewis.  Fury thought about a meeting between the two young women, and did a mental full body shudder.  That was enough to frighten anyone!  He wondered briefly if he should unleash the two young women on the resurrected HYDRA (if his sources were correct), and then decided it might be wise to wait on that.  He heard stories about Carlyon Tregarth … the man was notoriously protective of his family.

“The most recent information has them just inside the Colorado border, the southeastern corner.  I’ve triangulated their position, and it looks like they’re inside a national park,” Fury told them.  Even if the other Avengers hadn’t said so already, Fury wouldn’t have forced them to go after their captain.  It was still early days for them as a team, and connections were still being forged.  This wasn’t potentially world-ending, and there was no doubt in Nick Fury’s mind that Steve Rogers could handle himself.  He had only to remember his uncle’s stories about the raid Cap led against the HYDRA headquarters after Sergeant Barnes’ death.

But … maybe this wasn’t being done for Cap … or, at least, just for him?  Fury thought about what was said about the red in Romanov’s ledger … in truth, they all had red in their ledger, one way or another.  Maybe … maybe this wasn’t just about Steve Rogers, but all of them.  He didn’t know.  Perhaps it didn’t matter.  Nick Fury made eye contact with each and every one of the gathered Avengers.  He looked at Natasha Romanov, who was raised from childhood to be a spy and assassin, until one man took the chance that she could be more; he looked at Clint Barton, whose control was taken from him and yet still found the strength not to pull the trigger when face to face with the being who raped his mind; he looked at Bruce Banner, who even as the Hulk was still human enough to protect the woman he loved.  And finally, he looked at Tony Stark, the brilliant only son of a brilliant man.  Every last person in this room had issues … every last person in this room rose above those issues to become heroes, to become Avengers.

With that in mind, he said, “Very well.  Avengers … assemble.”  He never raised his voice, didn’t even bark out the words.  With a few keystrokes, Fury sent the coordinates to all four of the assembled Avengers.  He wondered briefly if the Tregarth part of Torchwood would take the Avengers back to Oklahoma once the two captains were rescued.  If they did, they would certainly learn the truth about Coulson’s survival.  After a moment, Fury decided that it wasn’t that important … he would still be in another state when they found that out.  Oh, there would payback … not just from Romanov and Barton, but from Coulson himself.  Fury cringed a bit, trying not to imagine what would happen when Coulson learned about the fate of his no-longer mint-condition Captain America trading cards.  Oh yes.  He was expecting epic payback for _that_.  But at least Coulson was alive _to_ pay him back.

And as the four Avengers headed out of his office, Nick Fury knew he shouldn’t have been surprised that Tony Stark _had_ to have the last word.  The billionaire playboy/philanthropist-turned-hero tossed over his shoulder, “Yeah, we’re going to go bring our Capsicle home, Nicky.  Don’t wait up for us.”  The colonel rolled his eyes, and it wasn’t until after they were out of his office that he allowed a smile to cross his face.  In a way, he wished he was going with them.  He wondered how those holding Captains Rogers and Harkness, along with other such men, hostage would react when they found themselves confronted by both the Avengers and Torchwood?

Fury smirked to himself.  As Stark would probably have said, that would be an epic smack down of an epic failure!  Still chuckling over that thought, the director of SHIELD returned his attention to his paperwork … which included an agreement between SHIELD and Torchwood.  He only knew of Harkness and Tregarth by reputation, but what was the worst they could do when Fury offered an alliance?  Say no?

 

TBC


	7. Hunters and Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack reflects on the dangers of complacency; the book-end Tregarth daughters track the boys and the wannabes through the woods; while Steve discovers something very unexpected about his traveling companion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (belated) Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans and happy Hanukkah to any Jewish readers! I have so many reasons to be grateful … not just my blessings, but even for the more painful parts. Those things made me stronger, smarter and more resourceful and I’ve healed enough that I can be thankful for those things. On the fandom front, I went to see ‘Thor: The Dark World’ a few weeks ago, which co-stars Christopher Eccleston. A nice little tie-in. As to the movie itself, I loved it. There was a particular plot twist that broke my heart (no, it didn’t involve Loki). We’ll see how much the movie as a whole throws my own plans for Thor and Loki off track. I don’t think it will. There’s a (very good) reason why I say I’m a producer’s worst nightmare … I never do what I’m supposed to do. That’s as true now as when I was twenty-seven. Oh, and in case anyone is curious, the tent-cot that Priscilla and Natalie use when they stop for the night actually exists. So do the ‘cabins.’ No, I don’t go camping … at least, not since I was about eleven … I just spend a lot of time on websites doing research. Forward, march!

Somewhere in Southeastern Colorado

 

All right, on a scale of one to ten, that registered as a twenty-five on the ‘ _really stupid things I know better than to do, but do anyhow because it seemed like a good idea at the time_.’  Not that much of anything really penetrated the haze of pain which was Jack’s world during the last few minutes.  This … this would be a particularly painful death, he realized.  Several stray (or not so stray) javelins stuck in him.  Over his own labored breathing, he could hear Steve moving about … putting together that shelter he mentioned.  That wasn’t what Jack meant about not leaving him where he could be found, but he hadn’t the breath or the energy to explain what he meant.  Which would be a pity when he resurrected and Steve had a massive freak-out.

Jack’s world nearly went white with pain as Steve seized him somewhat roughly under his arms and dragged him.  Through that awful haze, he could hear Steve murmuring apologies, he was trying to be gentle, he was, but there wasn’t much time and he wished so much that he could find a cave where they could rest.  Jack wished he had the breath to tell Steve that it was okay, that they had other things to worry about right now.  Like … Jack temporarily lost his ability to breathe when his limp body slipped from Steve’s hands and hit the ground.

When he regained awareness (damn, he was still alive), Steve’s warm hand was cupping his cheek and he was staring a bit dazedly into the soldier’s baby blues.  Steve smiled worriedly, saying, “Thank God you’re still with me.  I just need you to hang on a little longer, Jack.”  The immortal thought briefly about telling his companion that God had nothing to do with it, but rejected the idea after just a few seconds.  It wasn’t worth his breath arguing over.  If he was going to use his breath for anything other than breathing before he died, he’d at least kiss Steve.  Not that he would be that lucky, of course.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said again as he gently covered Jack with his own coat, “I should have been watching more closely, shouldn’t have gotten cocky.”  Normally, Jack wasn’t one to complain about being cocky or someone getting cocky, but there was a first time for everything.  Besides, it wasn’t just Steve’s fault, it was his own as well.  They’d both been lulled into a false sense of security.  They were just lucky that only Jack was suffering for it.  Steve survived seventy years under the ice … neither of them could be sure that he would survive being used as a human pincushion.  Jack remembered another night when he was a human pincushion, and wouldn’t wish that on Steve … or most people, come to that.

He felt himself lifted again … only this time, he was settled careful against Steve’s chest.  He was dimly aware that Steve was swinging back and forth between calling him by his name and calling him ‘Bucky.’  Oh.  Oh, he never even thought of that!  Jack was aware that Steve’s best friend, Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes was lost near the end of the war when the Howling Commandos were sent to retrieve HYDRA’s top scientist from a moving train.  What he hadn’t realized until now was that he apparently reminded Steve of his lost friend.  Now more than ever, Jack wished he could reassure Steve that he would be back.

As Steve fussed over him, Jack allowed his mind to drift back to the last few minutes before the stakes pierced his body.  He still wasn’t entirely sure what they triggered … or even what triggered his sense that something was very, very wrong.  If one counted the time he spent buried alive, Jack had been alive for nearly two thousand years.  He fought in every terrain known to men (and many that weren’t yet).  He wasn’t as familiar with this particular forest, but he knew forests and he knew that nature was never truly silent.  Maybe that was his first warning.  It didn’t make any sense … but Jack gave up on things making sense a very, very long time ago.

The only thing that did make sense, the only thing that really occurred to him, once he realized that he was in danger, was that he had to protect Steve.  Yes, he was a super-soldier and yes, he survived seventy years encased in ice, but Jack wasn’t willing to put Steve’s ability to survive those stakes to the test.  There was a brief spell of silence, another fierce flash of pain, and then Jack was staring up into Steve’s bright blue eyes.  He really did have beautiful eyes.  Too bad he was distinctly Not Interested.

Steve was talking to him … talking about his Commandos, stories that Jack heard from other soldiers, other officers during the war.  But these stories were different.  These stories were told with affection and grief, and for the first time, it occurred to Jack, even in agony and even dying, that to Steve, his best friend died just months ago.  Just … _months_ … ago.  To the rest of the world, Sergeant Barnes died nearly seventy years earlier, but to Steve, it was a matter of weeks.  That knowledge hurt Jack as much as the stakes that tore into his body, because he was about to break Steve’s heart again … and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

And it wouldn’t be long now … Jack died enough times, even before that Year, to know what was happening to him.  It became harder for him to take a breath … the blood flow through his body was growing more sluggish, and he was getting cold.  Steve must have sensed this, because his arms tightened around Jack, fingers rubbing up and down his arms to warm him up.  Not that it would do any good, but Jack appreciated the thought.  There was a gap opening up before him, and Jack knew he would be falling through it soon.  Steve knew … his voice grew more strident, as if he was trying to convince Jack to hold on. 

He couldn’t hold on … but he _would_ come back.  He always did.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWWTWTW

 

 

 

A short time after the Tregarth patriarch issued his orders, his oldest and youngest daughters were on their respective ATV’s and heading after the main force of wannabes (and really, Priscilla was sure she could come up with a better name for that group of entitled brats, but ‘wannabes’ worked).  As Natalie stowed her rifle in her ATV, Priscilla watched their mother and her oldest daughter prepare for their own part of the plan.  In truth, Priscilla never wanted Esther to come on this mission … she was too close to Jack, and it was necessary for Jack to be hurt in order for their plan to work.  But her father overruled her, telling her that Esther needed to develop those calluses if she was to ever be a worthwhile agent.  Priscilla thought briefly about protesting that she didn’t care what kind of agent Esther was … and then she looked at her daughter’s face.  Priscilla might not have cared, but Esther most certainly _did_. 

While Priscilla was focusing on her mother and older daughter, her youngest sister hugged Ailsa, telling her to mind Grandpa and she’d see her the following day before kissing the top of her head.  Their mother hugged both Priscilla and Natalie, and then the sisters departed.  During the leave-taking, the boys (meaning Jason, Lucas, Owen and Rex) got the ATVs out … and now?  Now, they were riding through the forest, not even trying to make conversation.  Although that was more good sense than anything else … even though they had a comm system in their helmets, it could be distracting.  Besides, their father wanted to operate under radio silence as much as possible.  That didn’t prevent Priscilla from stealing looks at her sister on occasion.  Not she could tell what Natalie was thinking from her expression … she couldn’t see her sister’s face.  And much as she hated to admit, Priscilla realized that it was probably for the best.  Things were still unsettled in their family, between the revelation of Natalie’s parentage and more recently, the revelation of Esther’s heritage.  And even though she said she forgave them for their deception, even though she took up so fiercely for Priscilla against the elder sister’s former lover … Priscilla realized that her baby sister still didn’t entirely trust them, and that broke her heart.

In some ways, it was worse that Natalie didn’t lash out … because as Priscilla knew entirely too well, her sister only lashed out when she felt comfortable.  She could lash out at Jack (or, what passed for lashing out with Natalie) because she knew that he would forgive her.  That was assuming, of course, he saw a need for forgiveness at all.  She would likely never feel comfortable with the intensity of her attraction to him, but with him as a human being?  That was a different matter.   Natalie’s unwillingness to let down her guard told Priscilla with her, Octavia and her father that her sister’s trust in them was still a fragile thing.

For three hours, they followed Dore Paige and the majority of his entourage at a safe distance.  Priscilla mentally thanked her nephews and Jack for fine-tuning the engines to cut down on the noise factor.  But as the sun began to set, Priscilla signaled her sister that it was time to stop.  Nat inclined her helmeted head, pointing out a potential spot.  Priscilla did a quick mental evaluation before indicating her agreement, and the two sisters drew to a halt.  According to the information radioed to her when they stopped, they were a good half-mile from the position of the wannabes, and a mile from Captain Rogers and Jack’s last known position.  Good.  That was good.

Working quietly in tandem, they had their cot/tent put up, made sure that their respective ATV’s  (as well as their tent-cot) were properly covered, ate a (very) small dinner, and then crawled into the tent they would share, with Natalie’s rifle lying under the cot for easy access.  Priscilla’s dagger was hidden within her jacket, its cool steel reassuring against her skin.  She was a pacifist, but she would never hesitate to defend herself and her sister.  Lying together in their tent, their foreheads almost resting together, Priscilla tentatively put her hand on her younger sister’s wrist.  When Nat’s only response was to blink at her sleepily, Priscilla’s fingers closed over the flesh and bone and cartilage.  She was rewarded a moment later when her sister’s fingers wrapped around her own wrist and Natalie asked huskily, “You think everyone’s okay?”

“That’s one of the few things I’m sure about, honey,” Priscilla answered with a small smile.  Natalie arched an eyebrow at her, and Priscilla explained, “Honestly, I’m not even worried about Jack … which I think is a first.”  Natalie looked more awake now, and Priscilla explained in response to her sister’s questioning look, “I don’t think there’s been a time since I found out that he couldn’t stay dead that I didn’t worry about Jack.  Or rather, once I realized what that meant.”  She didn’t elaborate on that comment.  She really didn’t think she needed to, and seeing the wince that Natalie barely managed to suppress, she knew that she was right.  Priscilla continued after a moment, “I was worried about Esther at first, but then I remembered that she’s with Mama.  Just like Ailsa is with Dad.”

“And they’ll both take care of our girls,” Nat said simply, drawing a smile from Priscilla.  The two sisters were silent for several moments.  Priscilla knew her younger sister wasn’t asleep … she could tell from her breathing … but eventually Nat said softly, “I keep thinking about how you and Octavia found out about Jack being unable to stay dead.  Or rather, wondering how it was.  I still haven’t entirely gotten over the embarrassment of almost shooting him again when he resurrected the first time in front of me.”  Priscilla squeezed her sister’s wrist, because she understood … on both counts.  She also took the olive branch that Nat was extending.

“I don’t exactly remember the first time I saw Jack die and resurrect.  I know from Mama’s stories that I was very young, maybe two or three.  I just remember, more than anything, sitting on Mama’s lap while she waited for him to resurrect,” Priscilla admitted.  She smiled, lightly stroking her sister’s wrist, adding, “And I remember how beautiful I thought him, even then.”

“He _is_ beautiful,” Natalie agreed with a wide yawn.  Priscilla looked at her sister, not even trying to hide her amusement.  The younger woman stuck her tongue out, adding in a mock-petulant tone, “It’s not funny!”  Except it was, and they both knew it.  It was also irrelevant, because Natalie was to get her own back a few minutes later, by quietly observing, “You had a crush on Jack.”  Of course she did … how could she not?  But that wasn’t her sister’s point, as she learned a moment later when Natalie added almost absently, “And now, your older daughter is with him.  That has to be weird.”  Priscilla glowered at her sister … but only briefly, because Natalie was absolutely right.  Esther was ‘with’ Jack, as much as anyone could be with him at this point, and Priscilla did have a crush on Jack when she was a child.  In truth, she never really got over Jack.  How did anyone get over Captain Jack Harkness?

Eventually, however, she said softly, “It _is_ weird.  But you get used to that weirdness.  It’s part and parcel of being around Jack.”  And just because she was an older sister and it was her job to devil her younger sister, she added with a mischievous grin that their parents and sister would have recognized, “Just think, in another twenty years, give or take, it might be Ailsa in Esther’s position.”  Natalie’s eyes, which were drifting close, flew open at that comment and Priscilla’s initial attempts to swallow her laughter met with abject failure. 

“Priscilla!  Don’t even joke about that!” Natalie all but hissed, her pale cheeks flaming with embarrassment or maybe something else.  Priscilla actually allowed herself to giggle, especially when her sister glared at her again.  Oh, she’d missed this!  This mutual teasing and bickering was something she lost when she chose to raise her baby sister as her own daughter.  It was a significant part of her relationship with Octavia, even with the ten year age difference between herself and Octavia … but it was something missing from her relationship with Natalie.  The younger woman muttered under her breath, glaring at Priscilla all the while.

When she quieted down, Priscilla said softly, “In some ways, I wish Dad did tell you the truth about Mama years ago.  That shouldn’t have fallen to Jack, and I’m beyond sorry that you found out the way you did.  But at the same time, I’m glad that you were angry with Dad, Octavia and me … that gave you and Mama the opportunity to get to know each other.”  The inhale of breath told her that her sister was about to protest, and Priscilla tightened her fingers around Natalie’s wrist, adding, “It’s okay, honey.  It’s more than okay that you were angry with us, you had every right to be.  But you weren’t angry with Mama, and that’s even better, because it wasn’t her choice to keep you in the dark.  It was ours.”

“I understand why, though,” Natalie offered quietly, words starting to slur.  Before too much longer, she’d be dropping off to sleep, and to help with that process, Priscilla began stroking her fingers along her sister’s hairline.  Natalie hummed under her breath, just as she did when she was a little girl.  Priscilla blinked back tears, remembering her sister doing the exact same for her after they thought Esther died … after Juliana was taken from them.  She breathed out slowly, still struggling to release her fury at Robert Drummond for taking her little girl away from her.  It was like she told her father and later Jack.  She knew that Robert (and Bethany) did a wonderful job with Esther.  That wasn’t the point.  The point was, he took her baby from her.  He robbed her of twenty-six years with her child, and if she was truly honest with herself, Priscilla wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive him for that.  And to be really honest about it, she didn’t believe he did it for his ailing wife … but for himself.

Her vengeful thoughts were interrupted when Natalie mumbled, “Wonder if we could get Dad to buy one of those cabin tents the next time we go camping.  Love you, ‘Cilla, but is a good thing there’s only the two of us.”  Priscilla gave a small laugh, because really, what else could she do?  Natalie’s breathing evened out and Priscilla continued to caress her sister’s hair.  Long after the younger sister dropped off to sleep, the elder remained awake, reminding herself that Robert Drummond was dead, and that she should channel her continuing rage at him at a more contemporary target:  the spoiled brats who’d taken Jack and Captain Rogers.  As she herself drifted to sleep, reassured that the traps they’d set while they hid the ATVs would alert them to anyone who meant them harm.  _Let them come_ , she thought _, let_ _them_ …

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Jack was dead.

It wasn’t the first time Steve Rogers lost a friend.  It wasn’t even the first time he lost someone since he woke in a strange new world that was his country seventy years different.  But it was the first time someone died saving him, in either of his lives, and it wasn’t supposed to be like that.  He ignored the ghost of Bucky telling him that he wouldn’t follow Captain America … but he’d follow the scrawny kid who was too stupid to run from a fight anywhere.  Bucky was seventy years dead, dead because Steve wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to reach him before he fell and fell and fell into that ravine below the train.

However, he couldn’t ignore the ghost of Peggy telling him that Bucky made his choice.  That he chose to follow Steve.  That if he respected Bucky (and he did, so much, so much more than respected), he had to respect that choice as well.  Just as he had to respect the choice Jack made, to protect him.  So easy to say, not so easy to believe.  He’d known Jack less than a day, rolled his eyes at each attempt the other captain made to flirt with him, and yet for all that, he’d worked his way under Steve’s skin.

Steve wanted to say something to his dead friend, about his dead friend, something worthy of Captain America.  But right now, he was just Steve Rogers, a relic of a forgotten era, and a man who watched his friend die.  He gently rested the palm of his hand against Jack’s cheek, whispering, “I swear, Jack, you won’t die in vain.  We’re gonna set our brothers free, and then I’ll make sure Dore Paige and those like him don’t ever hurt men better than him again.”  Under normal circumstances, Steve could have had sympathy for Dore Paige.  They started out at the same place, but now, he could see what Dr. Erskine meant about the serum enhancing what was already there.  Dore Paige, and those with him … they would have turned into Red Skull or Schmidt, or whatever he wanted to call himself.  Dore Paige used the way he was presumably treated as an excuse to hurt other people.  Steve had a special disgust for people like that. 

It was too late for him to move out, much as he wanted to.  Oh, during the war, he would have.  But he had a better idea of the terrain when they were in Germany and other parts of Europe.  He’d never had the opportunity to scout this area, and quite frankly, he was leery of leaving the shelter and potentially making things easier for Dore Paige.  That was the last thing he wanted.  Oh, no.  No, he’d play this smart, and take Jack’s death out of their abductor’s hide.

At least, that was the plan.  That was the plan, until the dead man cradled in his lap bolted upright, inhaling sharply, his eyes wide.  Steve felt his heart almost stop when Jack sat up straight, gasping, “Oh, I hate those deaths!”  _I hate those deaths_?  That implied that something like this happened regularly, and to the best of Steve’s knowledge, the only people who came back to life were Lazarus and Jesus.  But Jack was a human being, not the Son of God, and not a friend of the Son of God.  Wasn’t he?

Jack looked around, blanching a little when he saw Steve’s face.  Jack’s expression made Steve wonder what his own expression looked like.  In truth, he wasn’t even sure what he was thinking and feeling.  Into the silence that fell between the two men after Jack’s declaration that he hated those deaths (which kind?  Being pierced by stakes?), the other captain said hesitantly, “I’m pretty sure I know what you’re thinking, but Steve … you have to believe me.  I’m not the devil.  I may not be very nice, but I’m not the devil and I’m not evil.  Well … not normally.”

Steve blinked and replied, “Of course you’re not.”  Jack blinked right back and Steve murmured, working through the things that happened since they met, “You were beaten savagely at that bar, but the beating didn’t kill you.  You were hurting, I know, but by the time we reached out destination, you were mostly fine.  A bit stiff, but fine.  Then when that dame kneed you in your privates, you recovered nearly as quickly.  And now …” And now, a dead man came back to life.  Steve looked at Jack, asking, “Was it a serum?  Did an experiment do this to you?” 

A logical assumption, given who he was and given whom he worked with.  A logical assumption, but as it turned out, an erroneous one.  Jack offered a smile that could have legitimately called pained and replied, “No … not an experiment, not a serum … just a girl with the power of goddess and a heart a few sizes bigger than the entire state of Texas.”  Steve blinked once more.  Jack offered another smile, slightly brighter (though not the brilliant smile that Steve had seen a few times.  Of course he noticed.  Just because he probably wasn’t interested didn’t mean he didn’t notice) as he shifted position so that he and Steve faced each other, and told of a bitter young man who turned to conning when the people he trusted betrayed him by taking two years of his memory from him.  He talked about an extraordinary man who prevented that angry boy from further ruining his life and the beautiful girl at his side.

Steve listened.  He heard what Jack said, and what he didn’t say.  But he didn’t speak until Jack told him about a Year that never happened, breathing, “My God.”  He wondered what Red Skull would have done to Jack, and shuddered.  Red Skull and his ilk couldn’t have his new friend.  Steve might be innocent in some ways of this new world, but some things never changed.  There would always be those like Red Skull who wanted what others had … whether that something was riches or power or immortality.  Moving on from that painful subject to another, Jack told him about the 456, a group of intergalactic drug dealers who got high on children, and what he did to stop them.  Steve closed his eyes, especially when Jack admitted that his grandson’s name was Steven, but that didn’t prevent him from putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder.  And then … and then, they came to the Miracle.

Two and a half months when no one on Earth died.  Steve actually heard references to this so-called Miracle.  And talk about people like Red Skull … only instead of coveting immortality, these Families as they called themselves, they used immortality to get what they actually coveted.  Which was power.  Steve wanted to put his fist through something, because God, he was _so_ sick of these people.  Red Skull, these Families, Loki and the Chitauri … it was always someone!  And despite Jack’s kind words, he honestly wasn’t impressed with this Rose dame.  He chose to take that serum; he chose to become Captain America.  Jack hadn’t chosen to become immortal, and to Steve’s way of thinking, that was a damn cruel thing to do. 

However, he said none of this to Jack, because when all was said and done, it wasn’t any of his business.  Besides, as he well knew, he was getting one side of the story.  Not that he was blaming Jack for that, as the other captain was relaying what he knew.  Another silence fell after Jack told him about the events of the Miracle (or as Natasha always said when she mentioned those months, the Abomination).  At last, Steve looked up at Jack, saying softly, “I am _so_ sorry.  No one should have to live forever.  That’s just … it shouldn’t be.”

“That’s me … Wrong,” Jack said lightly and Steve was taken aback at the rage that flowed through him at the words.  He could hear Jack capitalizing that word Wrong, and he knew it didn’t come from his friend.  He hoped for their sake that he never met whoever called Jack that.  Jack was quiet a few minutes, and then he said with more than a touch of wonderment, “You’re not freaked out or frightened or disgusted.”  Steve once more blinked, remembering what Jack said when he first came back to life, ‘ _I’m not the devil_.’ 

There was a whole passel of things Jack hadn’t told him yet, but he would do that when he was damn good and ready, and not a minute before.  Steve answered softly, “There’s no reason why I would be, Jack.  Freaked out or disgusted or appalled.  Well, I’m kinda appalled that it happened _to_ you, but I’m not freaked out or disgusted or appalled by _you_.  I mean, think about it.  I spent seventy years frozen … I’m on a team with a super-genius … two, if you want to count Dr. Banner … a pair of assassins, a being from another dimension who was mistakenly thought to be a god.  There’s nothing horrifying about you, Jack.  Maybe a bit of a flirt and I’m not sure if I agree with everything you’ve done, but you know what, I wasn’t there.  I don’t know that I could have done any better under the circumstances.”

He very carefully stayed away from his namesake’s death, because he wasn’t sure what to do with that.  Steve meant what he said.  He wasn’t sure he could have done any better in Jack’s place, and probably would have done worse.  But it still hurt his heart and he still mourned for that child.  Just as he did for the child’s family … his entire family.  He thought about the bitter young con artist whom this Doctor first met, and about the man whom that con artist became.  He thought about the changes Jack had seen, the people he’d lost, and he said softly, “That’s why you decided that it had to be you who acted as the diversion.  Because you’re more … resilient … than the rest of your team.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Jack answered.  He hesitated before muttering something about ‘ _in for a penny, in for a pound_.’ At least, that was what it sounded like, and Jack forged ahead, telling Steve, “There’s more.”  More.  More than the fact that he was traveling with an immortal who couldn’t stay dead, who spent nearly two thousand years buried alive (and there was a story there, Steve was sure … with Captain Jack Harkness, he was learning that there was just about _always_ a story). 

However, he said nothing, allowing Jack to continue, “I’m not from this time.  I was both three thousand years from now, in the fifty-first century, on another planet … I grew up on the Boeshane Peninsula.  When I was still very young, I joined the Time Agency, which was … well, exactly what it says on the tin.  Policing of timelines … but like every agency, it became corrupted.  Last I heard, there were only seven Time Agents left.  Seven out of thousands.”  Steve shuddered, but the last piece of the puzzle fell into place for him.  From the moment he met Jack, there was something so familiar about him.  In the beginning, he thought it was Jack’s similarities to Bucky.  But now?  Now, he knew it went beyond that.

They were both men out of time.  Steve finding himself in a future he didn’t understand, but Jack … Jack was three thousand years out of his time.  Steve imagined that would be like going back to the Egypt at the time the pyramids were built for him, and shuddered.  There were stories, so many stories, which Jack had yet to tell him.  Again, he would tell those stories when he was ready.  Steve murmured, shifting so that he and Jack were shoulder to shoulder, “That explains so much.  I’m gonna say this even if you laugh at me … but we’re brothers, you and I.  Brothers in time, brothers out of time.”

There was no laughter in Jack’s bright blue eyes.  Oh, he smiled … a genuine smile that Steve wished he could see more often, but no there was no laughter, no amusement, nothing that could be considered derisive.  The immortal answered softly, “I promise I’ll do better with you than the brother I was born with.  And in the morning, I think it’s time we turned the tables on these twats.  I think it’s time they realized that the hunters have become the hunted.”  Steve answered with a feral grin of his own.  Oh, he agreed … but he wanted to make sure that the hunters didn’t realize that they’d become the hunted.  Not until it was entirely too late.  However, that would wait until the morning.  Right now, they had plans to make.

 

 

TBC 


	8. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto comes face to face with himself and Lisa; Ailsa has a very important question for Carlyon; while Octavia receives an email that rattles her badly. We’ll get back to Steve and Jack in the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up, a few quick warnings. I’m not someone who hates Lisa. In fact, the truth is, I have an incredible amount of sympathy for her. I know for a fact that this is reflected in my writing, and I make no apologies for that. Do I like her? Not really. We didn’t get to know her during the course of the series, not really, so I really can’t say that I like her. But as far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t deserve the hatred that gets dumped on her. Keep that in mind during this first section in particular. Next … the conversation between Ailsa and Carlyon. I strive to avoid potty humor (literally), but it occurred to me that I needed to deal with the logistics of having a five year old girl in the MMU. I have seven nieces and nephews … most of whom I either changed their diapers or had to take to the bathroom at some point. In addition, I’m an Air Force brat … long car rides were part of my childhood, sometimes hundreds of miles without rest areas or gas stations. My parents had to get creative with three young children … thus, the coffee can reference. Also, I never really dealt with Ailsa processing being kidnapped and its aftermath. Her mother, absolutely, and the rest of the family, but not Ailsa. It’s long past time I rectified that. Oh, and I’ve completely ignored the canon version of Phil Coulson’s resurrection. There may be references to characters in Agents of SHIELD (namely, Melinda May), but that’ll be about it.

The Rift House

Unknown Time

 

 

The transition from this dimension to another was terrifying enough.  When you added in coming face to face with a version of you that was, shall we say … not entirely sane?  Well, that was another whole (pardon the pun) dimension of terrifying.   Ianto Jones was still more than a little shaken by his encounter with himself when he encountered Lisa.  Not his Lisa, as such … but she was still a version of Lisa … still a version of the woman he’d loved.  The other Ianto was discussing something with Lord Rassilon, the Time Lord’s head bent toward Ianto’s doppelganger with a thoughtful expression. 

Ianto shuddered and returned his attention to Lisa, who smiled at him gently, and she observed, “This must be mind-bending for you.  Oh, I know … Ianto has told me a little of what you faced with Torchwood Three after my shell was destroyed.  But it’s still mind-bending … encountering an alternate version of yourself … an alternate version of the woman you loved and lost.”  Ianto nodded … and then his mind picked up on a particular phrase she used earlier.  She described her body as a ‘shell.’  He didn’t know if it was deliberate or not, but it brought to mind the metal that encased Lisa’s body.  However, he didn’t ask.  He had a sense that he didn’t want to know. 

Instead, he observed, “I think what’s most mind-bending of all is slipping through dimensions and finding out about the Gatekeepers.  We never even suspected such a thing existed.  So much of what came through the Cardiff Rift seemed random.”  Lisa offered an impish smile, a smile that he recognized, and his heart ached all over again.  When they first arrived, Rassilon told him that Lisa both was and wasn’t his Lisa.  There were moments when Ianto could see how true this was, when she made reference to things that never happened … but most of the time?  Most of the time, he could only see his Lisa. 

“Ianto, the Gatekeepers didn’t come into being until _after_ the Cardiff Rift closed.  And not so coincidentally, that was the same time the other you came into being, thanks to Seriath.  The same time … well, sort of.  When you’re speaking of Time Lords, time doesn’t necessarily run in a straight line.  The tenth incarnation of the Doctor once referred to such things as ‘ _timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly_.’  Horrific way of putting it, but at the same time … at the same time, it’s true,” Lisa told him.  

The re-introduction of his other self into the conversation gave Ianto the opening he wanted to ask the question which burned at the forefront of his mind.  He asked softly, “Are you happy, Lisa?  I know that you’re a composite of several Lisa Halletts, but you’re still _my_ Lisa.”  She smiled at him, touching his cheek tenderly.  Ianto couldn’t help it … his eyes drifted closed at the familiar, gentle touch.  For the first time, he began to understand why Rassilon brought him here.  It wasn’t just to see Lisa one last time, or to see a different (alarming) version of himself … it was so he could finally, truly move forward with his life.  

“I _am_ happy, Ianto.  Being a Rift Guardian … there are good days and bad days, and days when I want to kick the other Ianto in unmentionable places,” Lisa replied, drawing Ianto’s eyes open once more, even as he flinched.  It took all of his self-control to avoid following his instincts and keeping said unmentionable places covered.  Lisa grinned at him impishly, knowing exactly what he was trying not to do (of course she did) … and continued, “But yes, Ianto.  I am _very_ happy.  I have a purpose, I have a variation of the man I loved.”  

Ianto nodded.  He was glad to hear that.  Which brought him to the final question that needed to be answered, so he could let Lisa go and move ahead with his life.  He’d never done that, he realized now, not really.  He asked quietly, “Do you forgive me for my relationship with Jack after … after you died?”  Lisa stared at him, actually stunned by the question, and Ianto forged ahead, saying, “I was sleeping with the man who killed you, Lisa.  I wasn’t just sleeping with him, I was …” He couldn’t continue.  This was far harder than he thought it would be, face to face with her, no matter how much he always wanted this. 

“Jack Harkness did _not_ kill me, Ianto.  He set me free.  He set me free, and he avenged my death.  It wasn’t him who killed me, it was the Cybermen and if you really want to blame a human for my death, blame Yvonne Hartman.  But I don’t even blame her, not really.  Yes, she was arrogant and … and yes, her actions led to the Ghost Shift, but when all is said and done, the ones responsible for what I became were the Cybermen.  I’m not angry with Jack Harkness for ending my existence.  I’m not angry with _you_ for your feelings for him.  I never had to forgive you for that … but I _did_ have to forgive you for prolonging my misery.” 

Ianto started to speak, though he wasn’t sure if he meant to protest or apologize, but Lisa covered his mouth with her fingers, saying, “No.  It’s all right, love, I understand.  I said I’ve forgiven you, and I have.  In the beginning, I was angry with you, but I grew to understand that while you were trying to reverse the process, you were saving yourself.  I gave you something to hold onto in the aftermath of Canary Wharf.  Lord Rassilon, and the other Ianto … they helped me to understand that, and once I did, I wasn’t angry with you anymore.  The important question now is, have you forgiven yourself?” 

Ianto nodded slowly, murmuring, “It’s taken time, but yes.  I’m sorry, Lisa.  I never meant to hurt you.”  Lisa’s eyes softened further and she stepped forward.  Ianto met her halfway, pulling her into his arms.  They clung to each other for several moments … and then, at last, more than six years after the Battle of Canary Wharf and its aftermath, Ianto Jones finally let go of Lisa Hallett.  There was no recrimination in her eyes, no rancor in her expression.  Only peace.  At long last, they were both at peace, with each other and with themselves.  Now, their lives on both sides of the Rift could truly begin. 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

“Grandpa … what if that mean lady comes back?” 

Carlyon Tregarth was focusing on many things at the moment.  There was the mission, of course, and the ‘ _oh my God, my best friend is working alongside Captain America_ ’ aspect of the aforementioned mission.  He was fretting about his wife and eldest granddaughter … worrying about his book-end daughters, who were alone together out in the woods for the first time since the truth came out about Natalie’s parentage … and monitoring the emails and texts from his middle granddaughter.  That wasn’t taking into account the texts he was receiving from his middle daughter, who was in the medical MMU.  Every time he got a text from Octavia, he found himself swearing.  He honestly didn’t know if she was a bad influence on Rex, or if he was a bad influence on her, but in truth, they were both driving him hat-stand!  And really, up until now, he’d almost forgotten that his youngest granddaughter was in the MMU with him.  A glance at his watch told him that it was four hours since Priscilla and Natalie departed … and this was the first time Ailsa had tried to get his attention? 

He looked at the little girl, who was staring at him with those big brown eyes of hers.  Seeing that she had his full attention, Ailsa repeated, “What if that mean lady comes back?  The one who wanted Mommy to hurt Jack?”  Carlyon blinked at his granddaughter in astonishment.  Her mother had been on a dangerous mission for nearly five hours, and the first words of the little girl’s mouth weren’t requests to go to the bathroom or for juice?  He still remembered a few cross-country trips with Ailsa’s mother when she was about the same age … and the rather inventive ways Priscilla found to attend to Natalie’s needs when they were miles away from civilization (in other words, a bathroom).  Carlyon shuddered a little because he never quite saw a coffee can the same way again after those experiences, and glanced back at his granddaughter, who was gazing at him with a tiny frown. 

Rather than answer her question, he asked, “I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention to you, sweet girl.  Do you need to go potty or get something to drink?”  Ailsa gave a little huff, sounding just like her mother when she was a toddler and someone wasn’t understanding what she was asking, even though it seemed perfectly clear to her.  (Truthfully, he preferred those little huffs to Octavia telling him one minute that she was a big girl, and then turning around not five minutes later and saying, ‘I not know, Daddy, I just free years old!’  There were times when he wondered how he survived the childhoods and adolescence of his two older daughters … and others when he wondered if his sanity survived. 

“I did, Grandpa.  Mommy showed me where the potty was, and I went two _hours_ ago,” Ailsa informed him, sounding more than a little exasperated.  Well, yes, she could go to the bathroom on her own and Natalie spent a week with Ailsa in the main MMU when the fleet first arrived, allowing the little girl to become familiar with the MMU.  He highly doubted though that it was two hours earlier … for one, the little girl couldn’t yet tell time, and two, she was given to exaggeration.  Within the last half hour or so, he would find that to be more plausible.  Ailsa asked again, sounding more urgent, “What if that mean lady comes back?”  She never referred to her former teacher by name, not even in conversations with the school officials or with the sheriff (so they learned from that worthy lady).  Although Carlyon didn’t think it was entirely conscious on Ailsa’s part, the little girl seemed to think that the woman didn’t deserve that dignity.  Not that Carlyon was about to argue, given what she’d put his entire family through. 

And he finally focused on the question she’d asked repeatedly.  What if she came back?  What would they do if Lola Wycliffe came back, what would they do if she tried again (even though Agent Coulson told him that they would never have to worry about that organization again, shortly after he arrived at the homestead).  Her return … well, that was a possibility, given that she’d been banished into the Rift … unlikely, but it was a possibility.  Stranger things were known to happen, especially in Torchwood.  He looked back at his granddaughter, answering her question with one of his own, “What would you like us to do?”  Despite Natalie’s fears, Ailsa never had nightmares about seeing her mother lose control and beat the ever-living fluff out of her kidnapper.  Not that Carlyon expected such a thing … what did surprise him was how protective Ailsa became of Jack in the wake of the kidnapping.  It was actually quite funny to see, the little girl fussing over the tall immortal.  What was almost as funny was the utter bemusement on Jack’s face whenever Ailsa tried to take care of him. 

What came out of Ailsa’s mouth next shouldn’t have surprised him as his five year old granddaughter looked at him and said firmly, “I wanna learn to beat her butt.”  Carlyon actually felt his jaw become unhinged in the wake of the little girl’s words.  Ailsa wanted to … wait, what?  But he saw the determination in the little face, and Carlyon mourned for the bits and pieces of innocence that his granddaughter lost when that bitch took her.  Oh, Ailsa was still five years old, still a playful little girl who loved tickling people because it was the easiest way to make them laugh.  But she learned the hard way that her mother and the rest of her family wouldn’t always be there to protect her … save her, most likely.  And she didn’t want to be helpless.  Carlyon had many reasons to hate Lola Wycliffe … her kidnapping of his granddaughter, her attempt to get Natalie to betray Jack, the grief she inflicted on his family.  But in that moment, he realized he hated her most of all for what she’d taken from his granddaughter. 

He said finally, “We’ll need to talk it over with your mum, angel … but I think we can sign you up for self-defense lessons.”  They would need to check on the lower age limits of the local dojos, but in the meantime … well, he would talk to Jason, Jack and Octavia.  They might have some ideas for self-defense for a child.  Weapons were out for now … except maybe a slingshot.  He would talk to Lucas about that, since making slingshots were his younger grandson’s chief hobby when he was a boy.  There was no reason Ailsa shouldn’t start learning how to use a slingshot.  But the more he thought about speaking to a sensei at a local dojo, the better he liked the idea.  They could teach Ailsa some things … but not everything. 

Among the things that they could teach her were the same lessons her mother learned as a child.  They could start teaching her Morse code.  And, really, she hadn’t done such a bad job of defending herself when Wycliffe took her … she kicked and bit and fought back as much as she could.  She couldn’t prevent Wycliffe from abducting her, but she put up one helluva fight, and that was all you could ask of any five year old.  Carlyon looked at his granddaughter and said firmly, “One way or another, Ailsa, we’ll make sure that even if she comes back, you’ll be able to protect yourself.”  

Ailsa’s face lit up and she bounced, squealing, “Yay-yay-yay!”  Of course, in so doing, she reminded Carlyon that while some of her innocence was lost, she was still five, and that was exactly how it should be.  This truth was further expanded when Ailsa asked hopefully, “Grandpa?  Can I have a juice?  I’m really, really, really thirsty.”  Carlyon chuckled and put his hand atop her head, steering her gently toward the ice box.  Maybe he should have expected Ailsa to react this way … no one in the Tregarth family reacted well to feeling helpless.  He was the prime example of _that_.  

As he opened the ice box, he wondered about contacting one of his associates at nearby Fort Sill.  At the very least, Sarge (and he insisted on being called Sarge … said that all his friends called him that.  Strange nickname for a friend, but considering some of the things Carlyon called his own friends while growing up, he could hardly throw stones) could point him in the right direction.  When he first arrived in Oklahoma with his ladies, whenever Angelo couldn’t help, Sarge could.  Yes.  Yes, that was a very good plan.  And he couldn’t wait to see how Sarge reacted to Jack.  A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, and Ailsa said as she carefully stuck the straw into her juice box, “That sounds scary, Grandpa.”

“Not to you, my darling, never to you.  I think it’s long past time you met my old friend Sarge.  In fact, he was my very first friend in Oklahoma.  And I think he’ll be able to tell us where you might be able to take lessons,” Carlyon answered and watched in amusement as his granddaughter’s eyes grew wide.  He grinned down at her, lightly stroking her hair, before gently nudging her toward the table.  Yes.  Yes, he liked that plan very much … but first, they had to finish the current mission.  There were dozens of men depending on them. 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW 

 

 

 

While her father saw to Ailsa, Octavia had her hands full in the medical MMU.  She’d just finished packing the first aid kits for Jason and Rex when her mother and oldest niece left for their part of the mission.  That wasn’t the problem.  Listening to her younger son and Owen?  That was something else entirely.  When Owen wasn’t baiting Rex, he was bickering with Lucas.  While she often enjoyed listening to the teasing … this was just annoying.  She and Rex were still struggling with the Big Reveal regarding her brother-in-law. 

It was Jack’s considered opinion that Rex was getting cold feet about his relationship with an ‘older woman,’ (said with an exasperated eye roll), and he thought it likely that Rex was using her brother-in-law as an excuse to back away.  Not that Octavia, or even her boys, cared.  He was, as Lucas put it, being a world-class douche bag.  Normally, Octavia would have at the very least Gibbs-smacked him or washed his mouth out with soap for his language, but honestly, she was too tired to care about it.  She was angry, tired, frustrated and worried sick.  She didn’t have the energy to tell Lucas to watch his mouth and she didn’t have the energy to tell Rex to grow up and get over himself. 

Trying to shut out the bickering between her younger son and their doctor, Octavia settled herself at the laptop, checking for updates from Adriane, when her email pinged at her.  Frowning, she minimized the feed from the homestead to check said email.  By now, she should have been used to the sensation of her blood running cold in her veins.  And she was.  But this … this worried her even more.  On the screen, there were only four words.  Four words shouldn’t make your blood run cold.  Much less these four words.  But when you took into account the email it came from … an email account that supposedly belonged to a dead man … well, the last thing you wanted to hear or read was, ‘ _we need to talk_.’ 

She typed back, ‘ _no, we don’t_.’  Octavia closed the email and returned her attention to the feed, blinking back tears.  She should have known.  No one died during Miracle Day, no one but Angelo Colasanto.  And thinking of her father’s best enemy, she wondered for the first time if his brat Olivia actually survived that Family-induced explosion.  She would need to check into that.  Not that she really cared, but any bit of information, of knowledge, was power.

It didn’t really come as a surprise when her email pinged once more just a few minutes later.  Octavia closed her eyes, wondering if she should even bother with this.  After a moment, however, she knew she had no choice.  She once more brought up her email, and clicked on the most recent addition.  Again, she wasn’t surprised when the responder emailed, ‘ _Yes.  We do.  I know where you are, Octavia, and I know what you’re doing.  I’m not far away … and I’m not here to hurt you or the boys or anyone else dear to you_.’ 

She actually scoffed at that, drawing Lucas and Owen’s attention away from their bickering.  She waved a hand to dismiss their blatant concern (really, who did Owen think he was fooling?  Octavia knew how men were, how young men were, especially when they were starting to fall in love and didn’t want to admit it).  Lucas turned back to what he was doing (God only knew what that was, because there were just some things she didn’t need to know about her sons), but Owen continued to stare at her worriedly.  This time, she offered him a gentle smile to reassure him.  She wasn’t sure how well it worked, but he finally turned his attention back to his own task, and for the next several moments, silence reigned in the MMU. 

Returning her own attention to the email, she typed furiously, ‘ _You expect me to believe that?  You threatened someone I love, Daniel.  My relationship with my boyfriend is on the rocks because of you_!’  No, it wasn’t … it really wasn’t.  Her relationship with Rex was troubled because he couldn’t accept that she hadn’t known the Families’ assassin was her brother-in-law, much less that she would have drop-kicked him in the family jewels if she’d known what he was doing!  Honestly, didn’t the man know her at all?  She was forced to conclude that the answer to that was a resounding ‘ _no_.’ 

This time, she only had to wait a matter of seconds before her brother-in-law responded, ‘ _Believe me, I have paid for my affiliation with the Families.  More than you’ll ever know_.’  Octavia rolled her eyes, and continued to read, ‘ _I swear to you, on David’s memory, I will not harm you, or Harkness, or anyone else dear to you.  As for Matheson, he’s not good enough for you.  The man is a horse’s ass_.’  Once more, Octavia rolled her eyes, because the phrase ‘pot, kettle’ came to mind.  In fact … 

She typed back, ‘ _So are you.  Not meeting you, in the middle of a mission, with both of my sisters in the field, along with my oldest niece.  Say what needs to be said, and then leave me alone_.’  Octavia hit ‘send’ with a little more force than was really necessary, but right now, Daniel was pissing her off.  Then again, that went into the category of things that she could always expect … the dryer buzzer going off when she just sat down and her brother-in-law would always be a pain in the neck (not a pain in the ass … that was saved for Rex). 

This time, her respite from David’s annoying twin was much longer.  Octavia used that time to spy on her home and Adriane … who had a pistol sitting in front of her while she watched TV with Agent Coulson.  At least, that was what Adriane said and Octavia had no reason not to believe her niece.  She typed in ‘ _what are you watching_?’  It took only a few minutes for Adriane to respond, ‘ _Agent Coulson is showing me the old Captain America reels.  Damn, he’s really cute.  Don’t tell Owen I said that_.’  Octavia snickered, and it was then that her email dinged once more.  She rolled her eyes and opened the email. 

‘ _Then I’ll meet you when you get back to Oklahoma.  Octavia.  We need to meet_.’  Octavia raised her eyebrows at her computer screen.  Really?  **REALLY**?  They **NEEDED** to talk.  Oh, she couldn’t wait to hear this.  But she re-read the email conversation to date and realized there was something else she needed to mention to her erstwhile brother-in-law.  She paused for a minute while she thought of how she wanted to word it.  Once she had the appropriate phrases in mind, she began typing once more. 

‘ _Oh, and just so you know?  Don’t ever make a promise on David’s memory again.  Don’t swear by his name, you don’t deserve that amount of dignity.  The Families are no better than the bastards who murdered David, so that makes you no better as well.  This is your only warning.  You ever do that again, and I’ll make sure that I finish what Rex started when you held Jack and the Cooper woman hostage_.’  She hit ‘send’ viciously and sat back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest.  Octavia was glad no one else could see her pose right now. 

There was a long silence.  She rubbed her hand over her face.  Dammit.  She shouldn’t let him do this to her.  At last, her email pinged again and Octavia wearily opened it.  Her brother-in-law answered, ‘ _I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I won’t do it again.  But I meant what I said.  We need to talk, Octavia, and your entire family depends on us having this conversation_.’  Octavia sighed quietly.  A soft voice over her shoulder murmured, “I wouldn’t trust him.”  She actually squeaked and jumped a mile, turning to face both Owen Harper and Lucas. 

Before she had a chance to continue, Owen went on, “Lucas, is there any chance that he’s traced our location?”  Octavia glared at him, and Owen continued, raising his hands, “I called your name three times, Tave … we were getting worried.”  She looked from Owen to Lucas and back again.  Owen looked concerned … and Lucas? Lucas actually looked scared.  He knew about what his uncle … what he did.  Owen continued, “I’m not concerned about us, but I am worried about trouble he might cause for our guys on the inside.” 

“That’s not what he wants.  And he already knew that we were here.  No, he wants something else.  I’ve already told him that a meeting right now, during the mission … it isn’t going to happen.  And Owen?” she said, waiting until their eyes met, “I don’t trust him.  I don’t trust him at all.  He looks like David, but he’s nothing like my husband.”  Nothing at all like David.  She knew that.  Mentally speaking, she knew that … but her heart was harder to convince at times.  It was one reason she kept her distance after losing David.  That, and she had two young sons who already lost their father, and their uncle was a dodgy sort. 

“Are you going to tell Grandfather?” Lucas questioned and Octavia released her breath.  There was a part of her which wanted to say ‘no,’ because it had no bearing on the mission.  However, Octavia was a cop and a Torchwood operative, and she knew better than to make such an assumption.  She nodded wearily and Lucas put his hand on her shoulder, murmuring, “We didn’t know he was alive, Mom.  Maybe we should have.”  Yes.  Yes, they should have.  She smiled a little as her younger son wrapped his arms around her from behind, something he hadn’t done in years … and did constantly when he was a child.  Octavia placed her hand over his arms, leaning back against his chest.  As sweet as her little boy’s gesture was (and yes, he would always be her little boy), it made her miss David all the more.  He’d been gone ten years, but there were times when it seemed like yesterday. 

But Owen was shaking his head, saying, “No.  I mean, I agree that Carlyon needs to know.  But you’re not the one who has to tell him.  I can do that.  I need to check the main MMU, make sure they have sufficient first aid supplies.  I’ll talk to your father at the same time.”  Octavia wanted to protest, because this was her responsibility, not his.  But Owen knelt in front of her, gently resting a hand on her knee, and reminded her, “I’m the Chief Medical Officer of this Torchwood branch, Detective Martinelli.  This is part of my responsibility.  Besides, I kinda think Adriane will get worried if you don’t respond to her.” 

Octavia nodded a bit, and Owen squeezed her knee.  He rose to his feet, telling Lucas, “You stay here as well, and look after your mum.  I’ll be back in about ten minutes.  Oh, and yes, I do have a comm with me.  If it would make you feel better, you can watch me from the door, make sure I get to the other caravan without incident.”  The snarky comment made Octavia smile, and there was no doubt in her mind that was exactly what Owen intended to do.   He liked to pretend he was snarly and growly, like he was before he was deposited in the other dimension, but that was more for Jack’s sake than anything else. 

“You know what, I think I’ll do just that, Doctor.  God knows you could get in trouble in a five-minute walk.  Oh, don’t give me that look … I’ve seen you get into trouble going from the main house to the bunkhouse, for cryin’ out loud!” Lucas snarked right back.  Now Octavia actually laughed and her youngest winked at her impishly.  She was still (very) shaken by the email from her brother-in-law, and she was still worried sick by whatever he had to say, but she could never allow herself to forget one thing, one very important thing. 

She wasn’t alone.  She would never be alone.  And she would always draw her strength from that knowledge … just like she always did with David.

 

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice the discrepancy between Rex’s thoughts on his relationship with Octavia in previous chapters, and Octavia’s own thoughts. When I first discovered the discrepancy, I thought about modifying it … until I realized that it could be a communication issue. Just because Rex feels that way, doesn’t necessarily translate to him telling Octavia. As of this past Saturday, my parents have been married for fifty years and they still have communication breakdowns on occasion. So … I decided to leave this chapter as is.


	9. Closing the Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Jack and Steve putting their plans into action; Sophia and Esther preparing to infiltrate the house to free the prisoners; and the rest of the Avengers aboard the quinjet as they head for Colorado.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn’t hear, the Southeastern US got hit with one heck of a snowstorm in the last eighteen hours. There are currently five states operating under a state of emergency, including my own North Carolina. My university closed at noon yesterday and will be closed all day today, so guess who is benefiting from the nasty weather? We received two and a half inches of snow … for this part of the country, that’s big. There have been around a thousand accidents because of the storm, over eleven hundred closings and delays, and ninety counties under alert in my state alone. The scenes out of Atlanta are even worse. Okay, that’s enough about the storm. Back to the story, which will have about two or three more chapters, plus the epilogue. The next story in the series will be ‘Dite’s Favor.’ However, I’m planning a side story, involving Bulwark and a much-maligned character in another fandom as part of my Champions series (Champions is a Lord of the Rings based series, in which basically decent characters who made horrible mistakes die and get another chance in another time … or another dimension. So far, it’s included Boromir, Guy of Gisburne in BBC’s Robin Hood, and James Norrington from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies). But that’s in the future.

Somewhere in Colorado

The Following Morning

 

 

“Steve.  C’mon, handsome, time to wake up.  Open those pretty baby blues,” a gentle voice said as an equally gentle hand shook him awake.  Steve Rogers blinked his eyes open slowly and found Jack Harkness smiling at him.  He said by way of a greeting, “Figured you might come up swinging if I wasn’t careful in waking you.”  Steve rubbed his hands over his eyes.  One of the features of the serum was his need for sleep decreased.  And truly, since he woke up from his icy coma, he hadn’t wanted to sleep.  Part of it was the nightmares … but part of it was the years he lost.  He’d slept long enough.

Jack grinned, adding, “You must not be fully awake yet … you haven’t taken a swing at me.”  Steve rolled his eyes, accepting the proffered hand that pulled him to his feet.  Jack continued a bit more seriously, “I apologize for the lack of coffee, but we kinda left home without supplies.”  Steve waved it off, and chose not to question the minute flinch in his new friend when Jack mentioned coffee.  He was the last person to comment on triggers, as the current psychology phraseology went.

“I think I’m just about to the point where I’d start worrying about you if you didn’t flirt with me or someone else, Jack,” Steve admitted, which made the other man smile.  The recently-defrosted man continued, “I don’t understand things about you, Jack.  I don’t understand a lot of things.  But in the end, it really doesn’t matter to me.  What matters to me is that you’ve saved my life, that you’re risking a boatload of pain to help others, and that you’re a good man.  It’s no different than Dr. Banner’s skills and expertise … okay, maybe it’s a bit different.”  Steve felt his face burn as Jack’s grin broadened.

“Oh, does that mean you won’t deck me if I kiss you?” the immortal asked cheekily and Steve rolled his eyes again.  He was still coming to terms with what Jack said about how he became immortal.  Well, that wasn’t quite right.  He was still fighting the urge to get angry on his friend’s behalf, because it wasn’t any of his business and it was long past.  There was nothing he could do about it now.  Jack continued, sounding curious, “That reminds me, how is Bruce doing anyhow?  Last time I saw him, he was on the run from ol’ Thunderbolt Ross.”

“First … if you kiss me, getting decked will be the least of your worries,” Steve retorted, drawing a laugh from the other man (who was skewered six ways from Sunday the previous night and was now perfectly okay).  The blond continued after a moment, “I didn’t realize you knew Bruce, but at this point, it’s getting harder for you to surprise me.  I won’t say impossible … the last time I did that, I lost a bet to Colonel Fury.”  Jack arched an eyebrow and Steve explained about his first time on the helicarrier.  Jack’s smile slipped, just a bit, and Steve remembered what Natasha Romanov told him on the way to New York, how the helicarrier borrowed from the design of another airship … a British one, called the Valiant.  He asked slowly, “You were on the Valiant … weren’t you?”

Jack’s head snapped around and Steve explained, “Natasha … one of the members of my unit … she told me about the Valiant.  I saw the look on your face just now, and since the helicarrier and the Valiant are the only two of their kind, to my knowledge … I was pretty sure that you’d been on the Valiant.  I won’t ask what happened there … it isn’t any of my business.  Just … I’m sorry.  For whatever you went through.”  He wasn’t surprised when Jack merely laughed it off and clapped his shoulder.  He was actually a bit relieved, especially after the revelations from the previous night.  A man who couldn’t stay dead … Steve could only imagine what was done to Jack over the course of his life.

“Just as a head’s up, I heard from my unit while you were sleeping, and they’re moving into position.   Two of Carlyon’s daughters are about a mile or so behind us … another team is heading for the house for intel and to possibly free the prisoners, while a third is preparing to take down the rest of the wannabes,” Jack relayed.  Steve blinked.  That was impressive.  The immortal went on, sounding as if he was actually conducting a briefing, “I’m estimating that we have until about noon before Paige gets bored and decides to lord his superiority over us.  I think we should mess up those plans of his,” Jack observed and Steve nodded.  That was actually something he was thinking about the previous night.

“I have a few ideas about that.  I don’t know how you communicate with your people, but I’m thinking it’s time we set up another trap for these bastards,” Steve commented.  Jack’s answering smile was best described as ‘feral,’ and once more, Steve was forced to acknowledge that underestimating this man because of his playful attitude would be beyond stupid.  The time-displaced soldier added, “How hard would it be to coordinate our capture of Paige with the freeing of the prisoners?  I’m thinking that some of these guys might want to, if not help, then at least see him go down.  And get your mind out of the gutter, Jack!”  He was rewarded with a particularly impish grin.

“But it’s _so_ much fun, with _such_ a gorgeous view!” Jack mock-whined and Steve wondered how he hadn’t given himself eye-strain with the number of times he’d rolled his eyes.  More seriously, the older man (not something Steve could call most people these days) went on, “And it wouldn’t be hard to coordinate at all.  Remember when I told you about being from three thousand years in the future?  Well, the rest of my team is literally seeing through my eyes.”  Steve stared in astonishment as Jack explained about a pair of lenses which acted as a camera … not just a camera, but a video camera.  He would consider the ramifications later.  What mattered right now was, Jack was in contact with his team.

“Thanks for elaborating.  There have been so many changes while I was sleeping, if you hadn’t told me that your lens cameras were from the future and another planet … well,” Steve shrugged.  Jack slipped his ever-present greatcoat on.  Maybe because Jack remembered the forties/lived through them, maybe because he was as time-displaced as Steve was, but the young soldier asked a bit hesitantly, “Do … I mean, I won’t apologize for it.  But sometimes I … I wonder if I’m adjusting properly.  To this time, that is.  I was asleep for nearly seventy years, Jack, and there have been so many changes in that time.”

Jack turned so quickly, Steve was sure he meant to kiss him … or hit him.  He did neither.  Instead, the immortal settled his hand on Steve’s shoulder, saying firmly, “There is nothing wrong with the way you’re adjusting, Steve.  You’re doing fine.”  There was a note in Jack’s voice that made Steve just a touch uncomfortable, but not because of anything sexual.  No, it was because … it was because Steve just reminded Jack of something, something that grieved him.  Steve wasn’t sure if he would have picked up on it under ordinary circumstances … but you never knew.

And he didn’t ask, because again … it wasn’t his business.  Jack would tell him when and if he was ready.  Instead, he began to outline what he was thinking, interrupted only occasionally when Jack wanted clarification.  Once their plans were made and Jack received confirmation from his unit, the two men exchanged an anticipatory and predatory grin.  It was time to end this … and send their brothers in arms home to their families.

However, as they packed up their makeshift shelter, Jack did tell him that story.  He told Steve about the Sky Gypsy, a plane that flew through the Rift from the 1950’s to 2006  … he spoke about her beautiful pilot, Diane; young Emma; and John, a man out of time who lost his desire to adapt to this time after an encounter with his son.  He talked about John taking his own life, and the hours Jack sat in the car with him, holding his hand so he didn’t die alone.  Steve would never say so, but he blinked back tears as they walked and Jack told his stories.  And if he quietly gripped Jack’s shoulder … well, that was between them and no one else.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

“Firewise, this is Home Base.  Phoenix has advised us of the time table.  Prepare to move in five,” her husband’s voice informed her and Sophia Tregarth rolled her eyes in exasperation at the code name her husband had given her.  Jack’s wasn’t bad … in fact, Jack’s was more than likely the most appropriate out of them all (first time for everything).  But Firewise?  Oh, she knew where he got it … the red of her hair, combined with the meaning of her given name.  She wasn’t really sure she wanted to know what code names he chose for their daughters.  Knowing Carlyon, it was probably something like One, Two, and Three.  All very tongue-in-cheek, of course.

Esther raised a brow and Sophia reassured her oldest granddaughter, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart.  Your grandfather just has a rather strange sense of humor when it comes to code names.” That brow arched higher, forcing Sophia to explain, “His code name for Jack is appropriate … Phoenix.  His code name for me, however, leaves something to be desired … Firewise.”  She fell silent, waiting for her granddaughter to puzzle out what she meant.  Sophia bit back a grin the moment that comprehension dawned in Esther’s eyes and she all but face-palmed.  Sophia snickered, “Oh yes.  I’m afraid to hear what he chose for my girls.”

“Actually … well, his code name for Priscilla is the Empress, since there was evidently a Roman empress named Priscilla,” Esther answered a bit sheepishly, and Sophia nodded, remembering her history lessons.  Priscilla, the wife of Diocletian.  Her oldest grandchild continued, “And his code name for Octavia is Leo.”  _What_?  Esther elaborated, “It’s short for Law Enforcement Officer.”  Which was Octavia’s previous occupation.  Of course.  Still, Sophia rolled her eyes and motioned for the younger woman to continue.  Esther added, “Natalie’s code name is Lotus.”  Now Sophia’s eyebrows reached her hairline.  Lotus?  Where in God’s name did he get that?  Esther explained, “Natalie shares a name with an actress from a particular set of films.”  Okay, she was with Esther so far, and the blonde girl went on, “This actress played a character named ‘Padme’ in these films, and Padme or Padma means …”

“Lotus,” Sophia observed and Esther bobbed her head in acknowledgment.  Sophia chose not to ask what he used as code names for the boys.  She had the rather strong sense that she didn’t want to know.  Instead, she allowed a comfortable silence to fall between herself and her granddaughter.  They’d spent the night in the second of three tent-cots that Sophia’s husband bought, quietly talking about nothing and everything.  It didn’t really matter as they huddled in the tent-cot, fingers interlaced … although Sophia would be lying if she said they didn’t talk about Jack.

They avoided the topic of sex, because it was just too surreal for Sophia.  However, Esther admitted that she was afraid of her own rage … which didn’t really surprise Sophia, who remembered quite vividly how stiff Esther was when she boarded the MMU.  That was just after Jack was captured at the bar.  So stiff, she could barely smile when Ailsa crawled into her lap.  Not that it deterred the little girl at all … oh, no.  Not their Ailsa … if anything, Esther’s reaction prompted Ailsa to snuggle even closer to her newly-discovered cousin, as if her hugs could un-stiffen Esther (as the boys put it).  Sophia wasn’t entirely sure she was wrong, because the older girl did relax the longer Ailsa held onto her.  Of course, then came the encounter between their two time-displaced soldiers and the little weasel who was responsible for the rash of disappearances during the last few months.  More specifically, the moment when Paige’s sole female crony kneed Jack in the groin.  Sophia made the mistake of looking at Esther’s face in that moment … and was reminded that while her eldest granddaughter was a gentle person at heart, that made her no less dangerous.

She could have told her granddaughter that Jack could take care of himself and had been doing it for far longer than any of them had been alive … but Esther knew that.  She could have told her that Jack deliberately antagonized the girl, for the express purpose of getting his hands on the keys to tag them.  But again, this was something that Esther knew.  And she could have told her that vengeance wouldn’t help.  She could have, but she didn’t, because once again, her granddaughter knew that.  There was other wisdom (ha) she could have shared, but in the end, she chose not to.  Either Esther would find the strength to restrain herself or she wouldn’t.  That was up to her.

However, she did think that it was promising that Esther was concerned about her own control.  It meant that she would be more aware when the time came.  Oh, there wasn’t a doubt in Sophia’s mind that her granddaughter would and could leave this Tris in a world of hurt, especially if she gave them a bunch of lip.  But there was a world of hurt and then there was, as her grandsons said when they didn’t realize she was around, opening up a can of whoop-ass.  Silly boys.  As if she hadn’t heard much worse (sometimes from their grandfather and usually when he didn’t realize she was around)?

Esther observed quietly, breaking into Sophia’s reverie, “How do you want to play this?  I mean, it’s going to look a wee bit suspicious, two women turning up in the middle of nowhere, and we can’t exactly turn up at the front door, asking for a cup of sugar or milk.”  Sophia flashed her a smile, appreciating her sense of humor cropping up, but she knew the younger woman had an excellent point.  And in truth, she’d been thinking about that ever since she woke up this morning and answered nature’s call (and she was with Carlyon.  She’d never look at a coffee can the same way again). 

“I actually have an idea.  You’re right, we can’t play the befuddled neighbor … however, playing the lost tourists/hikers never goes out of style,” Sophia pointed out.  Esther nodded thoughtfully, and Sophia added with an impish grin, “As Jack would say, don’t mess with the classics.”  That drew a smile and Sophia couldn’t curb the impulse to ruffle her granddaughter’s blonde hair.  That earned her an eye roll (along with another small smile).  She really had to give Esther credit … not once had she asked if Sophia thought Jack was okay or what she thought Jack was doing.  At her granddaughter’s age, in her position, she wouldn’t have been able to say that. 

“Okay, so we’re lost hikers who aren’t really familiar with the area, might as well stick as close to the truth as we can … so we should be shocked to see the house out in the middle of nowhere,” Esther mused and Sophia nodded.  The girl continued, “Should we be sisters or cousins or just co-workers?”  Sophia studied her granddaughter’s features for a few minutes, thinking about her own sisters.  There was no way in the world the wannabes would believe that Esther was her granddaughter (truthfully, there were many times when Sophia herself had a hard time believing that she even had grandchildren, much less that her oldest grandchild would be turning twenty-seven soon).

“Sisters.  We’re sisters.  Jeannie and Julie.  Jeannie and Julie Welles,” Sophia answered at last, choosing a shortened version of her maiden name.  It was also a variation that she remembered her father using when she was a child and he wanted to protect his children and wife.  (She never quite understood why he was using it, but it grew clearer to her as an adult that her father was far more than a diplomat)  Esther frowned and Sophia continued, “It was my nickname among my sisters when we were kids, since my middle name is Imogene.  We won’t discuss what my brothers called me.  No, it wasn’t anything raunchy, just embarrassing.  How hard will it be for you to remember to call me ‘Jeannie’ or some variation thereof?”  Esther shook her head, and Sophia added, “And will it be hard for you to hear a variation of your original name?”  They rarely talked about those few hours when the Tregarths had Juliana.  Sophia wasn’t entirely certain of how Esther was getting along with her birth mother, as it wasn’t something Priscilla talked about often, but it couldn’t be easy for either.

“I’ll be okay,” Esther answered.  Sophia merely stared at her, and Esther re-iterated, her voice sounding stronger, more certain, more determined, “I will be okay.  I promise.  Right now, those guys … both the prisoners and our guys … they’re relying on us.  I won’t fail them.”  There was a steely determination in her granddaughter’s voice and Sophia nodded.  She squeezed Esther’s hand, and much to her gratification, Esther squeezed back.  The girl added, her voice trembling, “And I’m relying on you, too.  Stop me if I get out of control.”  Sophia squeezed a little harder.  That went without saying.  But she had faith in her granddaughter.  Even so …

“I will.  You know I will.  But Esther, you know that I’m relying on you as well,” Sophia told the young woman.  Esther didn’t speak, and Sophia continued, “I’m relying on you to keep me under control as well.  I’ve seen and experienced a lot of things since I woke up, things that infuriated and enraged me.  I’ve learned that my life was saved at the cost of a young man’s.  I’ve learned that one of my best friends made a choice that no one should ever have to make.   I’ve learned that my people and my world were subjected to some horrific things at the hands of monsters who call themselves human beings.  And quite frankly, I’m reaching the point where I don’t trust myself to keep my rage under control.  I’m counting on you to help me do that.”

Esther didn’t respond at first, although her lips worked.  At last, she nodded fiercely and whispered, “I promise.  I promise, I won’t let you go too far.  I’ll stop you, in whatever way I can.  I promise.”  Sophia didn’t fool herself.  This settled nothing.  This solved nothing.  But a covenant was formed between herself and her eldest grandchild with those words.  Sophia would keep Esther from going too far, and Esther would keep Sophia from going too far. It was progress, of some kind.  It was more than they had when they started out, and that was progress.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

Somewhere over Omaha, Nebraska

Avengers Quinjet

Same Day 

 

 

Stark was grumbling again.  Not that this was anything new … Clint didn’t think he’d stopped grumbling from the moment they learned that the captain was taken.  He also knew that his grumbling was his way of dealing with/expressing worry.  He was worried about Captain Rogers.  They all were.  Even Banner, though some of his concern was also for Jack Harkness.  Clint had the sense, though, that Stark was as concerned _about_ Harkness as he was _for_ Steve Rogers.  He found out why a few minutes later when the playboy-billionaire-philanthropist threw down the folder and growl, “He hasn’t changed a bit … not one bit … since I was a kid.” 

“Maybe it’s someone different.  Maybe it’s actually his son or his grandson,” Natasha offered from her position across the aisle from Clint, and Stark was shaking his head immediately.  She conceded, “All right, the odds are against that, as in practically impossible.  Then again, I hesitate to use the word ‘impossible’ around us.  It’s also possible … there was an operative I worked with who … let’s just say that he was born around the same time as Captain Rogers, but he still seemed to be a young man when I knew him.  It’s possible that Captain Harkness is similar to him.”  Stark was already shaking his head, muttering, ‘no, no, no.’ Natasha glowered at her former ‘boss,’ saying, “What’s your explanation, then?” 

“You heard Fury, you read the files … Harkness was involved in shutting down that so-called ‘Miracle.’  Remember, no one in the world died for two months … two months of people living in agony, two months of cowards getting away with murder because their victims didn’t die, two months of the world going to hell.  No … one … died!” Stark retorted.  All true, but that didn’t mean that Jack Harkness couldn’t be trusted.  Look at Steve.  He said as much to Stark, who fumed, “He has been around since at least 1945, and he looks the same as he did when I was a kid.”  

“So?  Look, I don’t care what the man looks like.  I don’t care if he’s forty or four thousand.  The man was good to me … he’d had his entire world shredded, and he looked after me, helped me hide from Ross.  He’s good people, Tony,” Banner stressed.  They’d never really heard about how the scientist knew Harkness … none of them asked, because Banner would tell them when he was damn good and ready.  Oh, Stark might poke and prod, but he would also back off.  Banner paused before saying, “The last time I saw him was about three years ago, just a few months after those things speaking through the children were driven off.” 

“Harkness drove them off,” Natasha stated and Banner nodded.  She continued, “He drove them off and it cost him everything.”  Again, Banner nodded and Natasha observed, “You know what he did.  No, you don’t have to tell us.  It’s not our business.  But you trust him.”  For a third time, Banner nodded.  There was silence throughout the plane and Natasha finally said, “That’s good enough for me.  And when you’re ready, you’ll tell us about how you met him.”  Banner smiled at that, sitting back in his seat and raking his hand through his dark curly hair.  Stark was being uncharacteristically quiet, and Clint was starting to get the feeling that his ‘distrust’ of Harkness had less to do with the man’s inability to age and more to do with his childhood memories. 

“That’s a long story.  A good story, but a long way.  Met him and his chief tech, a sweet girl named ‘Tosh.’  God, she was so pretty.  Not as pretty as Betty, but if I’d met her first … well.  It wouldn’t have gone anywhere.  She died a few years back.  Jack told me that was why he sought me out.  I won’t tell you what he’s like, because Jack … really, he defies description in a lot of ways.  Gets exasperated with labels, and I can’t say that I blame him,” Banner replied.  Clint smirked to himself.  That made three of them.  Banner went on after a moment, “Will you like him?  I don’t know.  I know that I do.  The Other Guy?  Not so sure about him.” 

There was another silence as each of the Avengers considered the scientist’s words.  Finally, Natasha said quietly, “It doesn’t matter, not really.”  Clint shook his head.  It didn’t matter, not to Clint.  Stark huffed and Natasha repeated, steel in her voice, “It doesn’t matter, Stark.  We go in, we get our captain, we get out.”  Well, it wasn’t quite that cut and dried, since the Director wanted an alliance with Harkness and Torchwood, but he wasn’t entirely sure they would accept that.  Clint had his doubts as well.  Then again, he found himself rooting for Thor when the Asgardian came for his hammer, and he ended up working alongside him eventually.  That, however, brought forth memories of Coulson, and that grief was still too raw.  Even more so since his own actions (never mind that Loki was controlling him, that wasn’t the point) led to his friend and mentor’s death. 

“Touchdown in thirty minutes.  Everyone, make sure that they’re buckled in,” came the voice of their pilot from the cockpit.  Stark continued to grumble, but he buckled in and the more Clint watched him, the more it became clear that he was worried.  Why was he worried?  Not about Cap … he proved that he could take care of himself.  So what was worrying him?  The pilot added, “And Mr. Stark … Captain Harkness is nothing like Stane.  Keep that in mind.”  Stark glowered in the general direction of the cockpit, but Clint noticed that the other man didn’t protest.  Apparently, the pilot knew Stark well enough to make a statement like that.  Not just make the statement, but make it where others could hear him. 

Of course, Clint knew about Obadiah Stane … everyone knew about the treacherous bastard.  He even knew the rumor that was floating around SHIELD that Stane was responsible for the deaths of Howard and Maria Stark.  No one knew for sure, no one would ever know for sure … but Clint was no stranger to betrayal from people who should have been family, and it wouldn’t have surprised him at all.  He kept his mouth shut, however.  Instead, he returned his attention to the file on Captain Jack Harkness, compiled by SHIELD and Fury.  It was distressingly thin, but Clint could read between the lines.  

Banner’s comments indicated that Harkness had to make a choice that cost him everything.  No, those weren’t the words he spoke, but Clint could hear what wasn’t said, as well as what was said.  None of them were strangers to making those types of choices … Natasha walked away from everything she’d ever known, Clint himself put everything he earned at risk when he offered her a chance to be so much more than she was.  Steve chose to put that plane in the water decades earlier to save a city (his city), and that took him away from everything he’d ever known.  Even Stark made a choice that completely annihilated his old life, destroying what he thought he knew.  Banner … even he was no stranger to making choices that cost him dearly.  Thor … he destroyed the Bifrost (whatever that was … there were limits to what he learned from Loki) to protect two worlds. 

They all had red in their ledger, as Natasha said … every last one of them.  None of them could say that they didn’t.  None of them would try.  Hell, even Steve killed … he admitted as much in the days before he left for his road trip, while Clint was working through his guilt over letting Loki control him.  They all had red in their ledger.  Maybe that bound them together as much as anything.  Clint finished re-reading the briefing (trying very hard not to wish for another voice to be coming from the cockpit) and turned his attention to his quiver, while Natasha checked over her own weapons.  He couldn’t do anything for Coulson.  But he could do something for the man whom his friend idolized.  Clint wasn’t just doing this for Cap … he was doing this for Phil Coulson as well.  His former mentor sometimes talked about his grandfather Angelo, who believed in closing the circle, of covering all bases.  Clint never met the man, but the archer kinda got the impression he would have liked him.  Phil couldn’t close this circle, so Clint would do it on his behalf.

 

 

TBC


	10. The Ultimate Validation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we hear from some of the villains (and honestly, after spending six pages in their heads, I feel kinda dirty. Ick); Esther and Sophia settle the question of their control; while someone watches as Jack and Steve spring their trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, the Southeast is getting hit with blizzards and ice storms, and once more, the university is closed (both today the 12th and tomorrow the 13th). Thus, I’m catching up with my writing as much as possible (that is when I’m not distracted by the coverage of the weather, because this is just plain awful … and I grew up in Indiana and Pennsylvania). Further notes on that at the end of the chapter, as something occurred to me while I was writing this. I estimate there will be three more chapters, which will include the final confrontation, the mop-up, and the epilogue. The next story in the series will be Dite’s Favor, and I implore everyone to read the warnings that will be posted for that story. I don’t normally post warnings, but when I do, it’s for a very good reason.

Colorado, about a mile and a half from Jack and Steve’s position

Same Day 

 

 

This … this was almost too _easy_!  But he wouldn’t argue with that.  Nothing ever came easy for Theodore Paige.  Nothing was ever given to him, except his parents’ love and that didn’t count.  High school was a nightmare for him, after the relative ease of elementary school and middle school, and things went downhill from there.  He always got by in the lower grades, but high school was a whole new ballgame.  He was utterly miserable and to make matters worse, he didn’t fit in anywhere.  His childhood friends began to drift away and make new friends, leaving them with no time for him. 

The teachers didn’t help much in that respect, either.  He sucked at playing sports, so that was out (he still had rather humiliating memories of trying out for football,  basketball, baseball and track and to this day avoided even watching sports on tv, much less attending a game).  Drama club was no fun, choir wasn’t even in the cards, and shop class could have had potential if not for a particularly hot girl who was constantly distracting him, the bitch.  He still wished he could have made her pay … that could have been a good class for him, if it weren’t for her.

And then, when he was seventeen, his father died.  At that point, his life completely fell apart.  The loss of his father left him numb, and his already-mediocre grades plummeted.  He still graduated, but it was by the skin of his teeth.  He drifted through his life during the next few years.  His mother didn’t really argue … at least, not until she remarried.  It was bad enough that he wasn’t enough for his mother, that she felt she needed another man.  No, his new step-father was totally unreasonable, telling him that he would either have to go to college or get a job … or worse, go into the military.  He’d chosen the military, because how hard could it be?  He was smarter than most of his fellow recruits, it would be a breeze, right?  After all, only losers and morons joined the military. 

He hadn’t lasted a week.  And one of the dumbest recruits, who never stood up for himself and just took all of the crap they dished out … the last he heard, he was a friggin’ colonel.  If that wasn’t proof of how pathetic the military was … jeebus.  The next attempt was a community college, in an effort to bring up his grades enough to qualify for a four year college.  That was his thought, at least.  That hadn’t worked out too well, either.  And the less said about his attempts to hold a job, the better.  

When he met Tris, his life finally started to improve.  Tris … oh, her imagination was something to behold, and she had just as much anger as he did.  Maybe even more.  It was she who read that book about a man who hunted other men and she who began translating it into real life.  Paige grew up just outside the park, and the house they now used as a home base had belonged to his father’s parents.  And finally, it was Tris who suggested that they use his step-father as their first … guinea pig.  Oh, how he had enjoyed that.  His mother was heart-broken, but she shouldn’t have married the asshole. 

One by one, as their little circle grew, they tricked, drugged, or physically overpowered the so-called best of the best.  And one by one, they humiliated these assholes who thought they were better than everyone else.  Because as much as he’d enjoyed watching his bastard step-father die, he’d enjoyed humiliating him even more.  Tris agreed.  And he didn’t even mind all the times one of the prisoners came close to escaping.  After all, that was kinda the point of cheating.  And he cherished the looks of pure fury he received every time they dumped a near-escapee back in with the rest of their brothers.  Cherished it because it was pure impotent fury.  There wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do about it.  He saw to that.  Their access to food and water and rest was severely, severely limited.  They were weak now, and he was the strong one.  The only thing that could have possibly made this better was if that damn colonel who made it through basic training or their prick instructor was among the prisoners. 

These last two, though … he was going to enjoy breaking them.  And it was so close, he could just about taste it.  When he realized that his boys captured friggin’ Captain America … damn.  This was it, this was the ultimate validation, the proof that he needed that he was a hundred times better than any lunk-headed member of the military.  He still didn’t know who the other guy was, but he wasn’t anything special.  According to his boys in the trees, the other guy died during the night when he pushed Captain friggin’ America out of the way of their home-made spears.  Too bad.  He would have liked to see what kind of punishment the so-called super-soldier could have taken from those spears. 

And so, they were now traveling to intercept the ‘heroic’ (ha!) Captain America.  The hype said he was soft inside, which meant that his buddy’s death would have broken him.  Paige wanted to be there when he broke.  He wanted to be there when the so-called spangled man with the plan realized that he really was no better than anyone else … wanted to be there when he shattered into a thousand little pieces.  He had a little smile on his face as he trekked to intercept the soon to be broken captain.  And because he was so intent on his fantasy, he never noticed the two ATV’s or the women inside them.  He certainly didn’t notice the dark-haired woman speaking into her comm unit. 

But while all of those signs were ignored or dismissed, there was one he absolutely couldn’t have missed.  He definitely heard Logan sputtering from his particular treetop, “Dammit, Dore … there’s two of them after all!  That dark-haired guy with Captain America?  He didn’t die in the night!  He and Captain America just left that shelter of theirs, and he doesn’t even look injured!”  He never knew what it meant to have your blood run cold … not until that moment.  He rasped out to keep him posted and plunged ahead, even less focused on his surroundings and even more focused on ending both Captain America and Captain Fantastic.  Because only Lazarus and Jesus came back from the dead, and this ass wasn’t either of them.  Something else happened.  The wounds weren’t as bad.  They couldn’t have been.

Because Theodore Paige had come too far to lose now.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

In ordinary circumstances, she didn’t mind being left behind.  Normally.  She liked to think of herself as the heart of the team, the coordinator, the person who made everything possible from her cubby in their base.  She was the one who made sure everything ran smoothly, the one who could keep everyone on focus.  That was normally how she saw things.  But this situation was anything but normal.  Starting forty minutes ago, when she heard something around back and went out to investigate.  Tris thought she took the necessary precautions, taking a gun and a knife with her, along with a canister of mace.  But then, she made a mistake.  She could admit that, she wasn’t like Dore and the others.  The disturbance she heard was a pair of lost hikers, two sisters, the young blonde one giggling like a teenager.  Her auburn-haired older sister rolled her eyes and Tris wondered a bit snidely if the blonde was drunk or if she was ditzy.  That was probably her second mistake.

And truly, she still wasn’t sure what happened, but one moment, she was turning her back on the two ditzes (because she wasn’t particularly impressed with the redhead either) after giving them VERY detailed directions back to the road … the next, her face was being shoved into the house and her arm was twisted behind her back.  The blonde, now sounding decidedly less ditzy, snarled, “We can do this the hard way or the easy way.  Personally, I’m hoping you chose the hard way … you hurt my man, and I’m just dying for some payback.”

“What … eurgh … what do you want?” Tris grunted, especially after the blonde twisted her arm a little more.  The redhead murmured something, and the pressure eased, but only a bit.  Tris repeated, “You want money?”  The pressure once more increased, forcing another grunt out of Tris, and she remembered what she’d said earlier … how Tris hurt her man.  She rasped out, “You want revenge?  I’d like to see you try, Hiker Barbie.”  She yelped as the red-haired sister grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked.

“Oh, what we want, we already have … your keys.  But, if you give us any trouble, I’ll let my granddaughter take a pound of flesh from you,” came the response.  Her first thought was, ‘ _my keys_?’  She had those in the front right pocket of her jeans … how did the red-haired bitch managed to get her hands in her pockets without Tris noticing?  And the second was, ‘ _my granddaughter?  What the hell_?’  The redhead continued, sounding more than a little smug, “I’m a diplomat’s daughter, Esther … that doesn’t mean that I spent _all_ of my time with diplomats.”

Esther.  She’d said earlier that the blonde’s name was Julie.  Then again, she also said that the blonde was her sister, and now she was saying that she was her granddaughter, and she would say it (or, at least, think it), what the hell?  The blonde who was evidently Esther, rather than Julie, asked, “So, do we wait for the others or can we free them right now?”  Tris froze, now realizing just how badly she was conned.  They weren’t hikers at all.  They were here for the soldier boys and Tris tried to throw herself backward.  The blonde shoved her forward until Tris could feel the rough wood against her cheek, hissing, “Don’t try me!  You shoved your knee into my man’s crotch, I’m real tempted to return the favor!”

Tris stilled and the redhead answered, “Wait until we hear from Rex and Jason.  Once Carlyon realized how things were playing out, he rearranged some things.”  Tris felt herself go cold all over.  She wondered a bit numbly if she was the first to realize just how completely they were all just played.  Probably.  They should have seen that these two most recent prisoners were too easy to capture.  It was too easy, and they let themselves be captured.  The redhead added, sounding even more smug (if that was possible), “And now, she starts to understand.  But I wonder if you understand something else.  Those men you have down there?  They were trained to withstand extreme conditions.  Lack of food, lack of sleep.  They were conditioned to do without.  So tell me, little girl … do you really think you could keep men like that down?”

Tris swallowed hard, because she’d wondered about that, so many times.  She’d tried to talk the others, especially Dore, into getting chains or manacles for the prisoners.  Especially after seeing a feral smile on one of the faces of the men.  They were biding time.  Waiting for their captors to get complacent.  And then they would strike.  Now?  Now, they would have help.  And her communications were in the house.  Out of her reach.  She had no way of letting the boys know what was going on.  The redhead added after a moment, “Let’s go.  Rex and Jason have the house surrounded.  Lead on, my dear.  Esther, don’t hurt her.  Not yet, at least.”

There was a small moue of distress from the blonde, but Tris was yanked away from the house and shoved toward the open back door.  Her arm remained twisted firmly behind her back as she was marched toward the cellar, where they’d been holding the prisoners.  The redhead moved forward and Tris surged forth, trying to fight back in some way, but her arm was twisted harder.  The blonde whispered, “I watched you hurt one person I love, I’ll be damned if I’ll watch you attack my grandmother in front of me.”  _What the hell, grandmother_?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t tell Jack that you said you love him.  And … there!  Hello, is anyone awake?” the redhead called as she shone a light down the steps.  There was movement and a hoarse voice answered.  Tris turned her head, ever so slightly, and the redhead grinned.  She called down, “Good morning, boys.  It’s time to go home.  Careful, guard your eyes … I’m getting ready to turn on the lights.”  Tris went very still as the lights went on in the room and everyone, all of their prisoners, stared at the three of them.

“Thank you, ma’am,” said one of the first to be captured, “but if you don’t mind, we’d like to see this through.”  His eyes came to rest on Tris, and she pulled back against the blonde.  She swallowed hard, because that impotent fury that they were all so used to seeing wasn’t so impotent any more.  The soldier growled, “You oughta be grateful that my parents taught me to never strike a woman.”

“Oh,” Esther said airily, “I think my sister and I can take care of that for you.  But that can wait.  Sophia, how are we gonna get these guys to the trap site?”  Sophia.  So that was the redhead’s real name.  She said it was ‘Jeannie,’ but she’d been lying about everything.  And were they sisters or grandmother and granddaughter, or something else?  Not that it really mattered, but it was really starting to give Tris a headache.

“That was part of what I was waiting for, sweetheart.  Rex and Jason were not just making sure the coast was clear … they were trying to figure out the best way to get the MMU up here.  You didn’t think we were going to take the boys back to the MMU in our ATV’s, did you?  Never mind.  Yes, the MMU are coming to us, and then, we’ll join Jack and Steve.  Oh, yes … those are the names of the most recent men you captured.  Captain Steve Rogers and Captain Jack Harkness.”  The second name didn’t mean anything to Tris, but the first …

And it meant something to the men below her as well.  The original speaker inhaled sharply and asked, “Captain Steve Rogers?  You mean these boneheads … sorry, ladies … captured Captain America?”  He turned his attention to Tris, a feral grin appearing on his bearded face as he cackled, “You captured Captain America?  Oh, you are _so_ dead … you don’t even know how dead you are!”  He laughed long and hard, tears tracking down his face and Tris swallowed hard.  Yes, she knew it wasn’t a good thing that they captured Captain America … even if the boys didn’t.  But this … this was different.

“No, they don’t, and there’s no need to apologize to me … I’ve heard far worse, usually from my grandsons,” the redhead observed.  The soldier blinked, but made no comment.  The redhead continued with a small smile, “Regardless of what you may have heard, there is such a thing as suspended animation, or something similar.  I spent more than forty years in a coma.  I think once this is all over, Steve Rogers and I will need to have a long talk.”  The soldier grinned at that, taking at least ten years off his age.

And for the first time since she was dragged into the house by the two women, Tris spoke, telling the redhead, “I don’t know who you are, or what you’re doing, but that’s impossible!  There is no such thing as suspended animation, there’s no way you can possibly be this bimbo’s grandmother, and I’m beginning to wish I’d done worse to your boytoy than just knee him in the groin!”  She wasn’t able to say anything more, because the aforementioned bimbo’s arm wrapped around her neck, effectively choking her.

“Not … another … word.  Not about Jack, not about my grandmother, not about anything, because believe me, I would love nothing more than to put to use some of the things I learned from my youngest aunt.  Watching her beat the ever-living daylights out of the bitch who abducted her daughter was _quite_ educational,” the blonde hissed.  Tris gasped for breath, giving up the struggle when she couldn’t get into a position to elbow her captor.

“Yeah, Owen is still talking about that.  Speaking of which, we need to get these boys to Owen.  And as far as impossible?  Dearie, you have no idea what’s possible and what’s impossible.  But I’ll give you a little hint.  The man you kneed?  He helped to end Miracle Day, as did my beautiful granddaughter.  Where Jack Harkness is concerned, there is no such thing as impossible.  Besides.  We’re Torchwood.  Impossible doesn’t apply to us,” the redhead answered.  And there was really nothing Tris could say to that.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

He watched from a tree, watched as the two captains quietly set up their trap for the foolish children who thought they had all the answers, who thought they could rule this little corner of the world.  The captains had arrived here about fifteen minutes earlier and immediately began stacking the deck in their favor.  Not that he regarded it as cheating … not in this case.  Besides, his sister-in-law would tell him that he had no business, accusing anyone of cheating.  He smiled to himself, watching the two men work.  Interesting.  With all the following he did of the dark-haired man during the Miracle, he never really saw him in action.  Funny, the things he thought he knew.  In truth, just like those whom he served, he knew nothing.

Well, he knew better now.  He wasn’t interested in protecting Harkness … the man came back to life, after all.  However, he was interested in protecting his sister-in-law and nephews.  Tave was right, when she accused him of being no better than the bastards who murdered his brother.  She was right, and he could never truly make amends, especially since he knew what his masters were doing and he approved of it.  Evidently, he forgot his history lessons … things rarely ended well for those who would rule the world.

They also weren’t especially forgiving toward those who failed them.  He heard what happened to the CIA mole, and he wasn’t entirely surprised.  They abandoned him because of his actions in the office building, and no one was dying.  That left him in a very … interesting situation.  Or, it would have, if Harkness hadn’t returned to retrieve him.  He hadn’t said anything … just carted him off and dumped him in a shelter.  Didn’t tell the shelter people anything, either.  No one could die at that time (and now, he wasn’t even sure if Harkness would have died), but Harkness didn’t have to do that. 

While he was recovering from his gunshot wound, he often found himself visited by his brother’s ghosts.  Wonderful … he hallucinated the brother whom he failed.  And that was the most painful truth of all.  His twin was a hero, one of the greatest heroes he’d ever known.  He died protecting others, while he lived to hurt others.  David would be so damn ashamed of him.  That hurt.  More than the gunshot wound, more than the moans of pain he sometimes heard as he recovered in the shelter.  He failed his brother, and he couldn’t ever atone for that.

So, what he would do instead was protect his brother’s wife and sons.  And this … this was part of it.  A very large part of it.  He knew that Octavia was uncomfortable with his emails and texts, with his very existence, but if the idiots tried anything, he wanted to make sure that she and the rest of her family would know what was coming.  And in truth, he was more than a little uncomfortable with the current situation, but that had more to do with the bark under his ass and the leaves teasing his hair. 

Daniel Martinelli wondered a bit idly what would have happened if the Chitauri ever met up with the Families.  There was no doubt in his mind that the Chitauri would have used the Families to conquer the Earth, and then when their usefulness was at an end, they would have disposed of them.  That was what happened to traitors.  One of his favorite scenes in the movie _King Arthur_ came near the end, when the Saxons’ traitor and spy was picked out of the tree by the archer knight Tristan.  No one could convince Daniel that Tristan didn’t know the bastard was there.  He knew.  Oh, he knew.  And it was a fitting end for a traitor.

So was eternal life.  Another movie he loved was _300_ , especially Leonidas’ words to the hump-back who betrayed the Greeks to the Persians toward the end of the movie.  (He honestly didn’t know what was better … the king’s words, or the expression on the traitor’s face).  Maybe that was why Harkness took him to the shelter. Because he would have to live with what he’d done.  Sneaky.  Very sneaky.  It would be easy to dismiss Jack Harkness.  It would be easy to think of him just as a pretty boy, as someone you shouldn’t take seriously, because he obviously didn’t take himself seriously.  It would be easy, but it would also be a mistake.  A mistake he made once, and wouldn’t again.

A rumbling drew his attention and Daniel looked over his shoulder as the mobile units drew ever closer.  A glance toward his left informed him that Theodore Paige and the rest of his rotten little unit were closing in on Rogers and Harkness.  He wasn’t the only one who noticed.  Rogers caught sight of them and leaned closer to Harkness, who melted into the treeline with the other captain after their trap was set.  Harkness looked in the appropriate direction and Daniel lifted his binoculars just in time to see the immortal smile coldly.  He looked, Daniel decided, like a great cat, all but licking his lips in anticipation of an unsuspecting meal (although, knowing Harkness, he probably had a different meal in mind.  Bastard).

Through his binoculars, Daniel could see the two men exchanging a smile, and then, as one, the pair stepped out of their hiding place.  The former assassin swallowed hard, his heart racing with anticipation.  Theodore Paige and his men didn’t know it, but they were surrounded.  The MMU carrying the rest of the Tregarth family, as well as the rescued military personnel, were taking up position around the clearing.  They were faced on the other end by Harkness and Rogers.  And above them …

Above them, the quinjet used by the Avengers hovered above them.  Daniel was in New York City when the Chitauri attacked, and he recognized it.  While that foolish police officer was arguing with Captain Rogers about getting the civilians off the streets and into the relative safety of the subway and the basements of nearby buildings (an argument which, to be fair, only lasted a few minutes), Daniel was actually taking the man’s advice and herding people down into the subway.  It was what David would have done in his place.  He knew the sound of the quinjet.  He knew what was coming.

And then Harkness called out, pitching his voice so that God in his heaven could hear him, “Good afternoon … welcome to our party!  We’re so glad that you could join us!”  Daniel rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling anyhow … especially when he turned his binoculars toward the Paige group and saw their expressions.  This … this would be a lot of fun.

 

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, the fate of Daniel Martinelli (or, as we knew him in Miracle Day, the Families’ assassin). The last time we saw him, Rex’s bullet had torn through his throat and he just collapsed. However, only one person actually died during those two months (or two and a half months, however you want to count the time). And the next scene was between the four the following morning. So, what actually happened to him? Was he left in that building? Possible, but that would be sloppy. He could identify Jack and the others. Did someone inform the proper authorities that he was there? Maybe. Or, maybe Jack went back later and retrieved his body. I think it was Olivia who observed that the Families tended to be rather unforgiving toward people who failed them. I don’t imagine the Families were particularly interested in what became of their employee after that.


	11. The Last Play of the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have things coming to a head as the Avengers and Torchwood back their respective captains; Dore Paige proves to be a sore loser; Jack once more sacrifices himself; and the Hulk reminds everyone that he’s much more than just a dumb brute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I caught a break and figured out how I wanted to start this chapter. For some reason, once I have a place to start, I can take things from there. Sometimes, it takes a while for the rest of the chapter to flow ... other times, I can get it written within a day or two. That was the case this last time (despite the absolute nail biter game that was the US/Russia hockey game yesterday/Saturday morning). Then again, we’re quickly approaching the end of the story. Once this is complete, I’m not sure how long before Dite’s Favor will be up, even though I have the prologue started. When I can, we’ll put it that way.

A Clearing Somewhere in Colorado

Same Day

 

 

“Good afternoon … welcome to our party!  We’re so glad that you could join us!” 

Priscilla Tregarth wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry, so instead she chose door number three:  she rolled her eyes.  A snicker floated down to her and Priscilla tipped her head back to look at her youngest sister, who was literally up in a tree, along with her beloved rifle.   Natalie observed, “You gotta give him credit, he knows how to create a distraction.  I heard from Owen ... the guys who can stand up will be in the first MMU, everyone else will be in the medical unit.  And Dad says that once everyone is in position, he’ll give Jack the go-ahead.”

“Assuming Jack doesn’t take the bull by the horns ... the way he usually does.  Nat?  Any idea what’s hovering over our head?” Priscilla inquired, looking into the sky.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t see a blessed thing, but something was there, she could feel.  There was a long silence, a silence that grew progressively more uncomfortable.  Not the kind of uncomfortable when you wanted to avoid talking about something, more like ... more like something was coming, and you weren’t sure what direction it was coming from.

“Uh, ‘Cilla?  Do we know anyone who has a jet?” Natalie asked, sounding extremely confused (and maybe a little bit anxious).  Priscilla frowned, and it was then that she saw it.  A jet moved across the sky before them ... and then just seemed to drop.  Priscilla moved back further into the shade of the tree, and then looked up at her younger sister.  Natalie bowed her head, dark hair hanging around her face, and asked the very question that was troubling Priscilla, “Are they here for us?”  Priscilla started to answer, and then she remembered something ... something from the footage of the Battle of New York, a few months earlier. 

“Yes ... yes, that’s for us.  Nat, that’s the Avengers’ jet!  They figured out where Captain Rogers is!  I don’t know how or when, but they figured out where he is and they came ... to help, to retrieve him, it doesn’t really matter.  They’re here for him!  I recognize it from when it crashed,” Priscilla told her sister and Natalie’s posture straightened immediately.  Priscilla straightened her own spine, mirroring her sister’s posture, before the book-end sisters returned their attention to the drama unfolding around them.  Paige and his merry band of wannabes couldn’t see what the Tregarth sisters could ... the rest of the family circling the wagons.

“Right.  Okay.  So, Dad’s waiting until Paige mocks Jack and Captain Rogers for being only two against several before we reveal ourselves?” Nat inquired and Priscilla nodded.  She didn’t ask how her sister figured that out.  She didn’t even ask how Natalie came to the conclusion that Paige would mock Captain Rogers and Jack.  They’d all seen through Jack’s eyes in the last several hours, and they knew what kind of person Paige was.  Yeah, he was behaving somewhat like a stock villain, but right now, Priscilla would take that, _especially_ if it worked in their favor.  She saw entirely too many Torchwood operations go pear-shaped before her mother got sick not to take any advantage they had.

“Yes, but you stay in the tree.  You’re our sniper,” Priscilla said with a mischievous grin angled up at her sister.  She couldn’t see Natalie’s expression, as high up as she was, but she could just about _hear_ her rolling her eyes.  It was then that Paige proved them all correct by mocking the two captains side by side and Priscilla held herself ready, all but rolling her own eyes at his stupidity.  Jack ‘welcomes’ him and he didn’t realize that his two latest would-be victims set a trap for him?  Was he stupid, arrogant or too proud to realize he’d been had, and was there really any difference between the three in this situation?

Jack answered, “Just two?  I think just the two of us could take you ... in fact, I _know_ we could.  But we aren’t alone.  Not by a long shot.  When was the last time your charming little Tris checked in?”  He laughed at the expression on his face, and in her comm, Priscilla heard her father whisper, ‘ _now_.’  She began leaving the cover of the trees and smiled to herself as more people did the same, creating a circle around the two captains and the wannabes.  It wasn’t just their team, of course ... but many of the former prisoners. In fact ... Priscilla was growing more and more convinced that it wasn’t just many, but most, because even those who couldn’t stand on their own were leaning on others.  Leaning on Jason, on Rex, on Owen, on Lucas ... even on Priscilla’s mother and oldest daughter.

And that was _before_ the Avengers arrived on the scene.  They didn’t quite make an entrance this time (not the kind they made in Manhattan when the Chitauri attacked), but the four Avengers certainly made their presence known.  They walked out of the trees opposite Priscilla, side by side ... except Iron Man, who was hovering over the others.  The only one missing, from what Priscilla could tell, was Thor.  Dr. Bruce Banner, the Black Widow, Hawkeye (and if she was fifteen years younger, she would be so making a play for him, but Kit taught her that younger men were trouble).  Jack inclined his head at the newcomers, saying, “Bruce!  Good to see you!”

“Nice to see you, too, Jack.  Captain.  Looks like you’ve taken care of most of it,” the scientist answered, nodding to Jack in turn.  They knew each other.  That was unexpected.  Then again, she should be used to that with Jack by now.  Dr. Banner continued, “I’m sure all of this can be settled without further bloodshed.  I know I’d rather the Other Guy not come out to play.  He tends to make a mess when he does ... and Jack, whatever you’re about to say, save it.”  Priscilla covered her mouth with the back of her head, especially at the ‘ _spoilsport_ ’ face Jack made at the scientist.  Iron Man ... Tony Stark ... powered over to hover behind Jack and Captain Rogers, while the Black Widow (a pretty young red-head ... God, she was so young!) took up position beside Esther, gently encouraging one of the veterans to lean on her.

And Hawkeye?  Well, he joined Priscilla, gently inclining his head toward her, and Priscilla felt herself blushing.  He really was cute.  Not in a pretty-boy way, but definitely a very attractive man.  Then again, judging from what she saw of Thor during the battle against the Chitauri (and pictures of Tony Stark in the society papers), there wasn’t an **un** attractive Avenger.  It was Tony Stark who said now, “You took something that belonged to us ... we’re taking him back.  You’re going to let the Tregarths take these men home, these men whose boots you aren’t fit to _lick_ , and if you don’t argue with us, we _won’t_ wipe you out.”  Priscilla ventured a glance toward her father, who looked resigned but amused.  Well, then ... if he wasn’t aggravated, she’d just sit back ... relax ... and enjoy the show that was to come.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Well, well, well.  There was actually someone on Earth who could out-drama-queen Jack ... or, at least, could come close.  He honestly hadn’t thought that was possible.  There was very little irritation in the thought, just a great deal of affection, an equal amount of amusement, and a whole lot of amazement.  Owen Harper stood in front of the medical unit, quietly providing a battered warrior with support.  After Jason and Matheson made sure all of the wannabes were away from the old house/inn/whatever it was (there seemed to be some confusion about what the building was, because it sure as hell wasn’t a ranger station), Miss Sophia and Esther went into the house to free the soldiers.  They came out with nearly all of the former prisoners and a prisoner of their own. Matheson and Jason paused long enough to speak with the pair, before heading into the house ... and returning with the former prisoners who couldn’t walk at all. 

That was actually a sight to behold ... the prisoner in front, arms tied behind her back, with Esther holding the rope and Miss Sophia at her side ... and those soldiers who were capable of walking at their backs.  And Owen stood there, watching in awe ... until Octavia swatted him in the back of his head, scolding, “Don’t just stand there, dingbat ... c’mon and help!”  And as Octavia often did, she put her money where her mouth was and ran out to help support some of the shakier-looking soldiers.  He put up a fight at first, and then gave up.  _Yeah.  Smart thing to do, mate_.  Arguing with Octavia ... hell, with any of the Tregarth women ... was an exercise in futility.  He didn’t care which generation, they were all stubborn and all inclined to dig in their heels when they thought they were right (and that was most of the time).

However, Owen did what he was told and chose another warrior to support, while Lucas did the same.  As they walked, Owen did a brief triage in his mind, cataloging who seemed like they were most in need of medical attention.  And they were all malnourished and dehydrated, but they were still able to walk.  Those who couldn’t ... they were carried by the stronger survivors.  Once everyone was loaded into one of the units, the drivers set the MMU’s into motion and headed for the site of the confrontation. 

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him when to a man, every last one of the former prisoners wanted to be there when Theodore Paige went down.  It didn’t surprise Lucas, who quietly explained that Jason would have done the exact same thing in that situation ... and Owen’s apprentice (eurgh, apprentice?) promised to do whatever he could to help them.  That seemed to be enough, for they started to settle down and accept the medical aid being rendered.  There were IV’s to set up and nourishment to pass out (only granola bars and bottles of water, but considering how malnourished these blokes were, it was good to start out small).  Owen was a bit nonplussed when he kept getting directed to ‘ _see to the other guys, doc, they need it worse_.’ 

Lucas, however, pointed out to one of the men who was genuinely injured that if he wanted to help his brothers, he needed to accept the treatment, so he could heal.  Owen shot the younger man a dirty look, but Lucas just shrugged, again stating, “My brother was a soldier, Owen.  So was my grandfather.  I know the way these guys think.”  Owen stuck his tongue out at him, making the man he was taking care of at the time laugh.  The doctor turned his glare on his patient, making the man laugh harder.  Hmph.

Which brought them to now.  Owen looked around him, at the Avengers and at Torchwood and at the men who suffered at the hands of people who were jealous of them.  And then, he turned his attention back to Jack, who stood silently at Steve Rogers’ side ( _Captain America ... holy shit, Captain America was alive and he was real, and he was standing side by side with one of the very few people in this world or any other Owen ever let himself care for_ ).  The legendary soldier was silent as well, but his stance told anyone who was paying attention that he was ready to move at the first hint of a threat.

And that was before Iron Man bluntly informed the wannabes, “You took something that belonged to us ... we’re taking him back.  You’re going to let the Tregarths take these men home, these men whose boots you aren’t fit to lick, and if you don’t argue with us, we won’t wipe you out.”   Owen raised an eyebrow at that statement, and privately reflected that Tony Stark was giving all new meaning to the phrase, ‘ _throwing down the gauntlet_.’  And Paige didn’t look especially impressed ... somewhat frightened, yes, but not impressed.  Not exactly the sharpest knife ... or maybe he was just deliberately obtuse.

“Yeah, you’re real impressive,” the little pillock sneered, “you had to cheat to get anywhere!  You’re pathetic, all of you!”  Now it felt like Owen’s eyebrows were trying to crawl into his hairline, because really?  He was accusing _them_ of cheating?  In what universe did _that_ make sense?  Lucas evidently agreed, because he snorted in obvious contempt, shaking his head.  Owen looked over to Jason, and noticed the quieter Martinelli brother trembling with rage.  Paige added, “They had what should have been mine, I’m smarter than they are, and everything they have should have been mine!”

“Smarter?  You didn’t even _realize_ you were walking into a trap!” Captain Rogers exclaimed, sounding more than a touch incredulous.  The young man shook his head, saying, “I don’t mean just in the last ten minutes, although that’s certainly the case!  You didn’t even realize that your capture of Jack and me was a trap.  You didn’t capture us because you were better than us ... you captured us because we _wanted_ to be captured.”  Owen smirked at the look of pure shock on Paige’s face.  The blond captain went on, “We heard about the veterans going missing in this part of the country and both decided to investigate.  We both decided to arrange our capture ... it was just good luck for us that you took us at the same time.”

“I deliberately shot my mouth off to get dear Tris to attack me ... when she did, when she fell into my trap for her, I planted a tracker on her.  Or, more appropriately, on the keys she carried.  That allowed my team to find these handsome gentlemen and rescue them.  Although ... do I see some bruises on her face?” Jack asked, glancing toward the sole female in the group.  A glance of his own told Owen that his captain was a hundred percent right.  Jack asked, “Do I _want_ to know, ladies?”

“I was keeping a promise, Jack.  I promised when I saw this ... _wench_ ... hurt you, that her ass was mine.  And then, one of our new friends said that if he wasn’t raised to never hit women, he’d take a swing at her ... I told him that I would take care of that for him.  And I even waited until she tried to do something stupid before I kept my promises.  I’ve learned a few things from you and Rex ... and also from my aunts,” Esther said, sounding thoroughly unrepentant.  Owen winced, remembering what Natalie did to the Pharma bitch.  Esther added, lifting her chin a bit, “She hurt someone important to me.  I wasn’t about to take that lying down.”  She smirked, a decidedly un-Esther expression, telling them, “I take _other_ things lying down, but not that.”

Matheson face-palmed and groaned, Octavia laughed and clapped with delight, and the expression on Jack’s face was ... well.  It was a good thing it had been raining recently, because if Colorado had recently been experiencing a drought, the look Jack gave Esther could have set a fire.  Owen swallowed hard and exhaled slowly.  Damn.  Looking around, he could see that everyone else was feeling the same way.  Octavia was actually fanning herself with her hand and Owen could just about see steam rolling out of Matheson’s ears.

And Carlyon brought things back on track, saying, “And she _did_ wait until Miss Patricia Malloy did do something stupid.  She tried to attack members of this family, and Esther warned her to behave herself ... or else.  And dear Miss Patricia should be grateful that my youngest granddaughter has more sense in her little pinky finger than _she_ has in her entire body, because if she’d hurt Ailsa, Esther would have been the absolute _least_ of her worries.”  Owen actually cringed, because, **ow**!  Carlyon pitched his voice a little louder, adding, “And no, Natalie Sophia, that does not mean it’s open season on someone your oldest niece has already opened a can of whoop-arse on.”  The branches of one of the trees over by Priscilla and the archer ruffled.

Esther added, “He’s right, Nat.  Save your bullets.  Unless you want to make her dance, and really, we have better ways to do that.”  The branches stopped moving and Esther went on, “So, our great, evil plan has been revealed to Mr. Paige and his associates, what’s the next move?”  That was actually a good question.  A _really_ good question, if Owen was to be perfectly honest with himself and since he returned to his home dimension, that was something he tried to be.  Because one thing that was steadily becoming clearer ... Paige wouldn’t go quietly.

“None of this changes anything.  NOTHING, do you understand?  I still win!  I took out those dumb bastards, one by one, and I’ll take out you two as well!” Paige shrieked.  Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t see that coming.  After all, Paige convicted himself literally right before their eyes.  Oh, there really were times when Owen hated being right!  But he would hate it even more only moments later when Paige screamed, “You bastard, you ruined _everything_!  You should have stayed in the ice, you should have stayed dead!  You don’t belong in this time and I’m gonna make sure you stay dead this time!” 

He raised his arm ... aimed some kind of crossbow-type weapon at Captain Rogers ... and fired.  The nearby Avengers started forward to protect their captain ... but someone else got there first.  Someone who’d been standing at the blond man’s side from the beginning.  Someone who didn’t make a sound as he shoved the time-relocated man out of the way.  Owen’s heart sank all the way to his toes when a familiar figure collapsed, as if he was a puppet whose strings were cut.  Captain Rogers cried out in horror and denial, catching Jack as he fell and lowering him to the ground.  The Avengers continued to move steadily toward Paige, but before even the now Hulked-out Banner could reach the wannabe, a single shot cracked and Paige dropped like a rock.  Owen tore his eyes away from Rogers even now cradling Jack to look where the shot came from.  It, of course, came from the tree where Natalie watched over them all.  Priscilla Tregarth also looked in that direction, while the Avenger archer began heading toward Natalie’s position.  Satisfied that his teammate was in good hands, Owen turned his attention to his dying captain.  He ignored Theodore Paige’s dead body and the rest of his people.  The Avengers were seeing to them.  His only concern was with Jack and with Captain Rogers.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

That bastard shot Jack.  He was aiming for Steve, but Jack ... brave, flirtatious, compassionate, loyal Jack ... shoved him out of the way.  Just as he had the night before, when those stakes tore into his body.  Steve held him tightly, whispering, “You didn’t have to do that, you idiot!”  Jack merely offered him a weak, bloody smile and Steve’s arms tightened around Jack as a convulsion shook his body.  Steve barely paid attention to the man who dropped to his knees beside Jack, only released his hold on Jack enough for the man to examine him.

An unwelcome voice sneered, “Won’t do any good, Captain Popsicle.  This prick is as good as dead ... I saw what Dore shot him with.  You don’t survive a wound like that.  It’s like a grapple hook, only it opens up inside the body.  I should know ... I helped to design it.  And it’s gonna hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, because every time you pull on it, it tears up more of his internal organs.”  Steve felt his blood run cold.  Not just as the cruelty and satisfaction he heard in the dame’s voice, but at the horror of what Jack would experience over the next several hours.  Oh, he saw Jack come back from the dead.  He held him when he came back, but what if this was different?  He didn’t want to believe it.  Jack came back from being blown up, literally ... he’d come back from this, too, wouldn’t he?  And at the same time, there was a part of him which wondered if Jack wanted to come back.  He would, but were they selfish for _wanting_ him to come back?  Steve knew he was selfish ... and for once, just for once, he wouldn’t apologize for it.  Jack understood, better than anyone else Steve met since he awoke.

No.  No, he couldn’t lose Jack now.  Steve tried to remember what he should do.  They couldn’t take the hooked arrow out of his body.  That would make matters worse, not that the situation could be any better.  But it could be worse ... it could always be worse.  The man who was kneeling beside the two captains fired back, a cockney accent bringing back even more memories for Steve, “Shut yer yob!  I’m not about to insult any of the Tregarth women by calling you a lady, because you’re anything but!  And Jack’s a helluva lot more resilient than you think.  Jack ... this is gonna be a bad one.”  Steve looked at him, and the man offered a small smile, observing in a much more gentle tone, “It won’t be pleasant, but he’ll get through.  We need to get him to ... damn.”

“If he’s going to have a chance at survival, the quinjet is the best bet.  But we have to go now.  You, shut up ... because the next time you open your mouth, you’ll answer to me.  And I’m not nearly as nice as the girl who was holding your leash earlier,” Natasha warned.  Steve’s mind whirled as he thought about it.  Take Jack ... some place in the jet.  He looked at the dark-haired man (the doctor?  Was this Owen?  The Owen who fell in love with Diane, the pilot of the Sky Gypsy who flew through the Rift and flew back through?), who nodded. 

“This is gonna hurt,” the dark-haired man warned and Jack managed a small nod.  The doctor called over his shoulder, “Lucas, Jason, get your arses over here ... eep!”  There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that the doctor would deny it later, but he definitely squeaked when Hulk actually moved him out of the way.  Steve looked up at the alter-ego of Bruce Banner, who was hovering over them.  With a gentleness that most people wouldn’t expect, Hulk eased the dying immortal into his arms and lifted him up.

Steve heard Jack gasp, “Hey, buddy ... good to see you, too.”  You too?  That would indicate that Jack met Hulk, as well as Bruce.  Not that it mattered right now.  Jack moaned softly and Hulk cradled him more securely against his chest, his huge face reflecting his concern.  The Other Guy, as Banner called him, was just full of surprises.  There was far more to him than anyone anticipated ... including Dr. Banner.   A moment later, Jack added, “You been taking good care of Bruce?  I know, he can be stubborn, but it’s worth it.  They always are.”  Hulk rumbled something that Steve couldn’t hear, but Jack choked out (choked on his own blood), “Oooh, that’s kinky, never knew you had it in you.”  There was another moan and Steve’s fingers curled into fists at his sides.  He wanted to hurt someone.  He wanted to hurt someone _so_ **badly** , but he couldn’t ... right now, he had to be Captain America.  He could be Captain Rogers later, when Jack was safe and recovered from that hooked arrow.

“Right.  Get these boys back to the medical unit.  Octavia, you’re driving that one.  Lucas, you’re on point for the injured soldiers ... yes, son, I realize, some of you are Marines and they aren’t the same, but labels aren’t important right now.  Esther, you go with the Avengers.  Oh, thank you, Agent Barton ... I’m glad someone thought to get my daughter down from the tree.  Excellent shot, by the way, my dear girl,” the elderly gentleman whom Jack told him was Carlyon Tregarth began issuing orders, even as Hulk began carrying Jack toward the quinjet.  Steve would never admit just how relieved he was when it flew overhead and he realized his teammates were on the scene.

“Actually, Carlyon ... I think the more severely injured servicemen should accompany Jack and the Avengers.  That’s not a slight against you, sweetheart, but we don’t know just how severe the injuries are,” the red-haired woman who wasn’t Natasha pointed out as Barton joined them, along with a slight, dark-haired woman looked to be in her late twenties or maybe early thirties.  Her dark eyes shifted from Hulk’s retreating back to Steve and then to Natasha, and Steve noted the way she looked at Jack ... well, what she could see of him.  Well.  That could prove to be awkward.  However, it was none of his business.

“No, Mama Sophia, you’re right.  I’ll stay with Mom and the MMU.  Owen, you go with Jack and the others.  Don’t worry, I can handle minor injuries.  Do I really need to remind you about Gaetano?” the young man asked.  Owen glowered at him, but stomped after Jack.  The young man named ‘Lucas’ turned to him and said, “Hi, I’m Lucas Martinelli.  It’s okay, that’s just how Owen is.  He’s worried about Jack, even though Jack will be all right ... those two have a ‘history’ together.  The rest of us just stay out of the way when things like this happen and Owen is fretting without everyone else knowing that he’s fretting.”

“Don’t overwhelm him, kiddo.  Why don’t you go with them, Captain Rogers?  I’m sure some of our injured guests could use additional support?” a full-figured dame suggested.  Steve bobbed his head a bit numbly and followed after Hulk.  He was barely aware of what was happening around him.  In so many ways, it was too much like Bucky’s death, even though Jack would come back from his injuries.  Still, he was aware enough to realize that the rest of his team fell in behind him ... and that he was placing himself and them in a dangerous situation by having such a fuzzy head.  But ... 

A hand fell on his shoulder and he found himself staring into the worried brown eyes of Tony Stark.  His old friend’s son said, his voice unusually low, “I know you’re worried about him, but Harkness is like Teflon.  He hasn’t aged a day since I saw him last and that was when I was fourteen.  It’s gonna be all right, Capsicle.”  Steve again nodded, though he was disturbed to realize that he couldn’t speak.  It felt as though his throat was swollen.  Stark repeated, giving his shoulder a little shake, “He’s gonna be fine.  You can’t keep Harkness down for long ... ol’ Obadiah Stane found that out the hard way.”  He froze then, and his eyes narrowed.  He muttered, “Son of a bitch.  Stane set that up.  He knew what Harkness was, and he set him up.  He was rotten even then!”

Steve knew only a little about Obadiah Stane, and was trying to focus on what Tony was saying, but Clint Barton broke in, “What are you going on about?  Harkness is gonna ... he’s in bad shape, Stark!  And I’m pretty sure it’s gonna get worse when that cockney guy pulls that thing out of his chest!”  Steve was vaguely aware that Clint was trying to avoid saying that Jack was dying and in a distant way, he appreciated the attempt.

“We’ll explain on the jet, Agent Barton.  Your Dr. Banner isn’t the only one whom is far more than he seems to be,” the dark-haired woman carrying the rifle observed.  She paused, and then added, “By the way, my name is Natalie Tregarth.  My niece Esther and daughter Ailsa will be joining us in the next few minutes.  It’s all right ... trust me when I say that they’ll both be helpful.”  Steve remembered what Jack told him about the entire Tregarth family and he nodded to his team.  None of them looked happy.  Not at all.  But in the end, they trusted him (God only knew why) and for now, they would let it go.  For now.

“Hello, Miss Tregarth, I’m Natasha Romanov.  You’ve already met my partner, Agent Barton.  And please, don’t apologize again for falling on top of him.  I think you probably made his day when you did that, probably even his week.  It’s not every day a pretty woman falls for him,” Natasha told the brunette.  Steve managed a glance back, just in time to see Barton roll his eyes and Natalie Tregarth blush and duck her head in obvious embarrassment.  At the same time, he saw the blonde girl from earlier striding toward them with a small girl in her arms.  Esther.  Jack’s Esther, who was so fierce in her defense of him.  Behind them, he saw others helping the more severely injured service personnel.  The remaining members of Paige’s little group were being herded toward one of those enormous RV’s ... all except Paige himself.  And Steve realized that he really didn’t care what happened to the man’s body, just so long as he couldn’t ever hurt another person again.  It just ... didn’t matter.

 

TBC


	12. Tell the World I'm Comin' Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, in this chapter, Clint begins to have more of a picture of their new allies; Phil and Adriane get good news; while Owen endures the longest hour-long flight ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized within the first five minutes of watching The Avengers that Clint would be my second favorite Avenger after Steve. How exactly did I know that? It was a single comment he made to Fury, when he pointed out that doors open from both sides. It doesn’t hurt that he is the only non-enhanced, regular human being among the Avengers. That makes him pretty darn amazing. And that was even before we get to the fight in Manhattan and the incredible shots he made. Oh, and I can’t forget the control he utilized when they surrounded Loki near the end. The reason I bring this up now is because when I starting writing this story, one of the images I had in my head was of Clint holding out his arms to Natalie as she tried to get down from the tree. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to share that image more fully with unless I do a flashback scene. Just imagine Clint looking up into a tree, his arms extended and telling Natalie that he’ll catch her. I know I’ll eventually get questions about this, so I’ll say it now. There won’t really be a Clint/Natalie romance. Maybe a fling, a few dates, a lot of hanging around with each other. But he does find her attractive and she finds him … well, he’s Clint. (shrugs)

Somewhere over Colorado

Approximately thirty minutes after the final confrontation with Theodore Paige

 

 

“Personally, I think you let him off _entirely_ too easily.”

The dark-haired woman sitting to his right glanced at him, or so he noticed from the corner of his eye. There had been very little conversation between the two adults in the cockpit up until then … Clint Barton had been more focused on flying the quinjet while Sitwell helped back in the cabin, and answering the questions of the little girl who nearly decimated his remaining hearing with a squeal when she found out that she was allowed to sit in the cockpit and watch him fly the jet. They need to bottle that kid’s shriek and unleash it. Maybe he would have a talk with Stark. Surely there was someone at the billionaire’s R&D division who could figure out a way to do something like that. On the other hand, Ailsa Kerren Tregarth herself was five years old, cute as a button, and even more dangerous, she knew just how cute she was.

There was absolutely no doubt in Clint’s mind that the little girl had all of the men in her (extended) family wrapped around her little pinkie finger. Not just her grandfather and two cousins, but Dr. Harper, Agent Matheson and Captain Harkness. Right now, the little girl was dozing in her mother’s lap … the woman who had literally fallen on top of Clint not even twenty minutes earlier. He was pretty sure that Stark would never let him live that down and he was a hundred percent positive that Natasha wouldn’t. That was fine, though. Ailsa was nice enough to give him ammo in the form of trying to braid Natasha’s hair. Clint got a picture of that while he was pretending to help get their ‘guests’ settled.

Clint’s attention was drawn back to the here and now when Ailsa’s mother quirked a brow at him before answering softly, “I probably did let him off far too easily. Honestly, for someone like that, given what we’ve learned about his likely crimes, it sounds like death was far too good for him. I probably could have made him really suffer. But right then, all I cared about was removing a threat to my family and to my captain. Oh, I know. He was aiming for your captain, not mine, but he was still threatening the people who matter to me. And thank you for letting us stay up here with you. I think Ailsa wants to become a pilot when she grows up … when she doesn’t want to be a ballerina, a police officer or an actress. It depends on the day of the week.” This was said with an affectionate glance toward the child now curled contentedly in her arms.

And that provided Clint with the perfect opportunity that weighed on his mind ever since the blonde girl (Esther) carried the little girl on board. Glancing warily at Ailsa, he asked, “Why did you bring her? Not just on the op, although I kinda understand that … but on the plane? I mean, you know Harkness won’t …” He floundered here, staring at Ailsa a bit worriedly. Clint looked back at her mother, only to find a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. What? What was she smiling at? She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and Ailsa made incoherent sounds before nestling more securely against her mother.

“We’ve found that it works out better all the way around if Ailsa can see Jack soon after he comes back, rather than have her fret over him. I don’t want my daughter getting an ulcer or developing anxiety issues, least of all this early. My baby girl has a terrifyingly vivid imagination and twice now, she’s practically convinced herself that he’s not coming back this time if she doesn’t see him right away. If she’d had to wait eight hours to find out that Jack was okay, she would have been a nervous wreck. And unfortunately, letting her talk to him on the phone doesn’t work that well. Ailsa has already figured out that Jack … well, that he won’t level with you if he thinks he’s protecting you. Not that she’d put it in those terms, but that’s the reality of it. So she needs to see him to be reassured,” the brunette answered.

Clint thought about it, and had to admit that the lady had a point. A very good point in fact, but that didn’t answer one key question. And it was a question that had to be asked. He thought about Captain Rogers’ reaction when Captain Harkness shoved him out of the way, and a curious possibility began to occur to him. Their captain seemed angry that the other man took the projectile meant for him … not grief-stricken. And Natalie kept referring to Harkness coming back, but … He had to ask the question. Clint asked very softly, “You’ve said that twice … that Captain Harkness comes back. You don’t mean from the dead, do you?” Natalie Tregarth just stared at him, once more brushing her lips across her daughter’s hair, and Clint’s hands tightened around the controls, because he was half-afraid of whatever was about to come out of her mouth.

“I do. Under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn’t tell you, because it’s not my place, not my story to tell. But these circumstances are anything but ordinary, and I don’t want you getting an unpleasant surprise … well, you might consider it unpleasant. Jack can die. He’s probably died several times during the last few minutes. But he can’t stay dead. No matter how devastating the fatal injury, he comes back to life … sometimes even completely building a new body from the inside out. A bomb was placed in him a few years back, and he came back from that,” she answered and Clint swallowed hard. He didn’t want to believe her. He wanted to say that was impossible, but his life turned into the impossible over the last few years. After all, the Avengers defined impossible. At this point, what would really be impossible would be Phil Coulson coming back to life, but Clint Barton’s luck just wasn’t that good. Besides, he couldn’t help but remember the conversation in the quinjet on the way to that clearing about Harkness.

Besides, he had to focus on what Natalie Tregarth was saying. Jack Harkness couldn’t stay dead. He died, but he didn’t stay dead. Really, when he thought about it, that would kinda suck. He died and came back to life. His current companion said softly, “You aren’t reacting as I was expecting.” Clint glanced at her, and she continued, “I was sure that you would be saying, ‘ _that’s impossible_ ’ or ‘ _you’re delusional_ ’ or ‘ _what are you smoking_?’ by now.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile and Clint smiled back.

“It’s tempting,” he admitted, “it’s _real_ tempting. But then I think, I’m on the same team as a god out of Norse legend; a super soldier from the past; a billionaire playboy-philanthropist who literally has an arc reactor where most people have a heart; a physicist … well, you saw Banner Hulk out when Harkness went down. And by the way, that was damn fine shooting … ‘scuse my language.” This was said with a wary look at the now-sound-asleep Ailsa. Natalie Tregarth grinned at him this time, and Clint thought she should smile often. When she smiled, it was more evident just how pretty she really was.

“Thank you for that, just try to be careful while she’s awake as well. My cou … sorry, my _nephews_ still forget that from time to time. Jack instituted a swear jar … any time anyone swears in front of Ailsa, even Jack himself, they have to put a dollar in the jar. We’re still figuring out what to do with the money that’s been accumulating. We may use it for dog food. That reminds me … I need to get in touch with my niece Adriane. Is there a way I can do that without messing up the controls?” Natalie asked, almost rambling. Clint raised an eyebrow, but showed her how to utilize the quinjet’s communications system. 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW 

 

 

Phil Coulson was slowly, quietly losing his mind. At this point, in the hours since the Tregarths left to follow the truck taking Jack Harkness to parts unknown, he’d gone through eight crossword puzzles, read five books, dozed for about two hours (yes, he knew, it wasn’t nearly enough for a man who was healing from a life-threatening injury, but he’d been too worried about … too many things to sleep well). Adriane wasn’t doing much better. Oh, she brought his meals to him, and stayed when she needed company … updated him when she had something to report, but she was just as worried as he was, if not more.

The trouble was, she was a bit more used to being helpless than he was. That wasn’t a slam against her, God knew. Helpless didn’t translate to useless, after all, and none of the Tregarths were useless, not even little Ailsa (maybe even least of all her). But the truth was, up until Miracle Day (and he hoped so much that he was there when the Families were wiped out once and for all), until that Abomination was unleashed against humanity, Adriane really … she was pretty much a civilian. Phil wasn’t. Barton sometimes joked that Phil could turn a shoelace into a deadly weapon, and he wasn’t far wrong. He wasn’t used to simply waiting. He was worried. He was worried about Steve Rogers, he was worried about Jack Harkness, he was worried about the young (and not so young) men whom they were trying to rescue. And he was tired. He was so tired, but until he and Adriane heard from the others, he couldn’t rest. The last time they received any actual communications from the rest of the team was about five hours earlier when the Tregarths began moving into position around Theodore Paige and his people. Yes, they did know their perpetrator’s name, information that Phil relayed both to his boss and to his cousin. 

That was another way he passed the hours … relaying information to Nick Fury and to Maria Hill, because they both needed the information about the Tregarths. They needed to know about Torchwood, about what the team … what this family … could do. You needed to know about your enemy, about their strengths and their weaknesses, but you needed the same information about your allies. You needed that information in order to blend their weaknesses and your strengths. Phil told them about the Martinelli branch of the family, about Octavia and Lucas and Jason, and yes, even Daniel. Because of course he knew about David Martinelli’s dark twin. Knowledge was power. 

He was dozing in bed, fingers moving absently through Mij’s fur when the door all but imploded off its hinges and snapping Phil out of his doze. He immediately regretted it as pain grayed his vision. Mij began to frantically lick his hand … puppy first aid, Esther Drummond/Tregarth called it. It wasn’t really, and yet, at the same time, it was. When the pain receded and his vision cleared, Adriane was nearly to the bed, but still gasping for breath. And what really frightened him was that he couldn’t tell whether she was sharing good news or bad. 

But then, she smiled. She had her older sister’s smile, he realized for the first time. She and Esther must have inherited their smile from their mother, since they had different fathers. Phil never really saw Priscilla’s smile. Adriane breathed, “I just heard from Natalie. It’s over. Paige is dead, the other veterans have been rescued, and they’re on their way back. It’s over, Agent Coulson.” Phil closed his eyes, mentally thanking God, Odin, and whoever else was listening. Not just for the words the girl had spoken, but that she told him the most important information. Well … most of the important information. There were two names she hadn’t mentioned, and Phil needed to know about them. 

He asked, “What about Captain Rogers and Captain Harkness?” Adriane’s face fell, just a little, and Phil swallowed hard. That was his only physical reaction. But he didn’t lose faith. Steve Rogers survived seventy years of being frozen alive. He moved past his confusion and disorientation, and did what he always did … he protected others. And Captain Harkness? Not even a bomb tearing him apart could stop him. Phil Coulson had faith in them both, because he had faith in his grandparents. Angelo Colasanto had faith in Jack Harkness, even after Phil’s grandfather broke faith with his lover … and Talia Colasanto had faith in Steve Rogers, even after his plane went down in the cold water. Phil would not fail his grandparents by losing faith in these two extraordinary men. 

“Jack … Jack died protecting Captain Rogers. Nat thinks he may die a few more times while O … while Dr. Harper is getting that umbrella arrow out of his chest. She really didn’t say much more than that, Ailsa was asleep on her lap. Captain Rogers himself is okay, mad as hell at Jack, but that’s something he has to learn about Jack. If there’s a question of someone else’s life or Jack’s, he’ll choose to save someone else. We don’t like it all the time, but we respect Jack too much to tell him that he’s wrong, that he shouldn’t do it,” Adriane admitted. Phil wondered a bit briefly if she really thought he hadn’t noticed the way she and Harper looked at each other (or hadn’t seen them snogging in the hallways), then dismissed it as unimportant. 

Captain Harkness died again, this time to save Steve Rogers. For the first time since Adriane brought him the news that the two captains were together and formulating a combined plan to bring down Theodore Paige and his group of self-absorbed, entitled brats, Phil thought about what that actually meant. For the first time, he thought about what those two men really had in common (and he didn’t mean his own family). He thought about a young man who woke up in a time decades from his own, with most, if not all, of his friends dead … he thought about a brash, mouthy self-styled captain from the distant future, stranded in a time millennia before his own, long before he, his parents, and most of the people he knew was even born. 

He should have seen it sooner, and it was an indication of how much the pain and the blood loss from his injury that he hadn’t seen it sooner. Jack Harkness and Steve Rogers were just as much alike as they were different, and Phil was a bit ashamed of himself for not seeing it before. He asked at last, “Any idea how long it’ll take before he comes back completely?” Phil didn’t know how the immortal captain’s … well, immortality … worked, especially like this. He had no idea what an umbrella arrow was, but he could make a pretty good guess, and it painted a particularly gruesome picture for him. 

And Adriane was shaking her head with a small sigh. This was evidently uncharted territory for them as well. Which, when he stopped to consider it, he really should have realized on his own, but after all the lives and deaths Jack Harkness went through, it seemed to him there weren’t too many ways he hadn’t died yet. Phil thought again about what kind of person would create a weapon like the umbrella arrow and shuddered. There was killing and then there was … and then there was this. He did his job, but he wasn’t malicious, usually. For this, though, he’d make an exception. The SHIELD operative asked next, “What about the rest of Paige’s group? What’s happened to them?” Now Adriane’s smile was positively predatory and Phil actually found himself looking forward to hearing whatever the combined forces of the Avengers and Torchwood did to Paige’s group. 

“Natalie killed Paige after he tried to kill Captain Rogers,” she relayed. That … actually didn’t surprise Phil. There was a reason his grandfather left the Colasanto estate to Natalie Tregarth, after all. It was just that it took the rest of the family a little longer to see what Angelo saw when he looked at her.   Oh, he told the truth when he said that his cousins weren’t interested in contesting Angelo’s wishes, but that didn’t mean that they understood what he was doing (aside from disinheriting Olivia) or that they could see what he did. But Phil? Phil did. He understood that it wasn’t the ones that had the big mouths who were the most dangerous. It was the quiet ones, like Steve Rogers or Talia Colasanto, or the ones who were masters of diversion, like Jack Harkness. Adriane continued, “The rest of the gang are on the plane with the Avengers, and under guard. Nat says that Agent Romanov wants custody of the woman who created the umbrella arrow, but Grandfather is saying they might do to her what they did to the bitch who kidnapped Ailsa … namely, shoving her into the Rift.” 

“Knowing the Avengers,” Phil answered dryly, “There will probably be a lot of creative suggestions on what to do with them.” Which brought up something else. Adriane said they were coming back here, and he knew that the flight time would be approximately in an hour. His mouth went dry as he realized that in a very short time, he would come face to face with the Avengers … who probably didn’t know that he was still alive. That … would come as a surprise to them, no doubt. 

It never occurred to him that they might have a surprise for _him_ as well. 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW 

 

 

That made five … five deaths, and Owen still wasn’t done with his surgery. There were a few glimmers of hope. One, they were in a secluded part of the jet. Two, Ailsa was in the cockpit with her mother. Three, the twats who put all of this into motion were in a place where they couldn’t hurt anyone. Four, the Black Widow was guarding them. And five, he was almost done. Oh, right, and Captain bloody America was quietly assisting him, eyes hard and cold, but his hands gentle as he stroked Jack’s sweat-soaked fringe back from his forehead. 

Right now, Jack was unconscious, a prelude to dying. And even when he was awake, he didn’t scream. Owen wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad. Or rather, he wasn’t sure if it was more good or more bad. Hearing Jack scream would have made it impossible for Owen to continue, but his low moans, as if he didn’t have the breath or the energy to scream, were bad enough. For a brief moment, Owen wished that Lucas was up here with him, and then he remembered … no. No, he didn’t. Lucas wasn’t ready for this. Hell, Owen wasn’t ready for this, and he’d known about Jack’s immortality ever since Abaddon. Abaddon, freed thanks to Owen’s stupidity. Abaddon, whose shadow had the power to kill, to suck life out of people right where they stood and in the middle of whatever they were doing. Abaddon, whose rising he’d never truly forgiven himself for and probably never would. 

Those memories caused his rage to surge and Rogers murmured, “Careful there.” Owen looked at the captain sharply, but the other man merely stared at him steadily, answering, “I don’t know who you’re angry with, but I’m pretty sure it’s not really Jack. He doesn’t deserve you taking out your anger with whoever on him, even if he is a self-sacrificing idiot.” Coming from Captain America, that was bloody rich, because _hello_ , seventy years in ice because he was trying to save millions of lives pretty much defined self-sacrificing, thank you very much! However, he was also correct. He wasn’t angry with Jack, not really. Mildly annoyed, but that was about it. No, Owen was actually angry with … 

“Myself,” Owen admitted as he eased the last prong of the damn arrow from Jack’s chest. He glanced up and saw Rogers’ eyes widen before his face hardened once more. The doctor added, “Never mind that it would violate the Hippocratic Oath six ways from Sunday, as Adriane likes to say, there’s a part of me which would love to shove this up that bitch’s arse.” Much to his surprise, Rogers looked like he was actually considering it. Then again, if it was up to Paige, it would be Rogers lying here on his operating table, and not Jack. So, maybe Owen shouldn’t be surprised by Rogers’ reaction. Even so, he knew that wasn’t it. Rogers was too much like Jack. Hits against himself was one thing … hits against those he cared for was something else entirely. 

However, he didn’t say anything about that. Instead, he explained, “Jack told me once that if I wanted to do his job, I’d need significantly bigger balls. He was right. Every so often, I’m reminded, not just of that, but of how true it is. The things I had to do in the other ‘verse to survive, to make sure others survived … if I’d stayed there any longer, I probably would have lost my humanity. In a way, I’m grateful for the Kinnickkinnock. If they hadn’t come through the Rift and beat Jack to death, I never would have made it home. Oh, that’s gotten it … it’s out and now he can start to heal. Once I get this bandage over Jack’s chest and get him cleaned up, Captain Rogers, I need you to get Esther and bring her back here.” 

“Are you sure that’s what he needs? I mean, I only saw one resurrection, but wouldn’t he need water or something to help with the dehydration with the amount of blood he’s lost?” Rogers asked earnestly. There was nothing even remotely patronizing or condescending about the man’s query … which was probably why Owen didn’t take offense at it. However, that still didn’t help Owen with answering his question, and it was a trickier question that someone might have thought. Maybe because his reasons for asking Rogers to get Esther were more selfish than selfless? After a moment, Owen shook his head. No, that wasn’t it. 

“We’ll give him water and such when he wakes up, mate. No, getting Esther isn’t for him … it’s for us, for me and Esther. And we need to get Ailsa in here once he wakes up, so she knows that he’ll be all right,” Owen finally replied. Jack didn’t stay dead, but Owen still found he needed to be around Jack after his friend and captain revived. Part of it was the four years he spent in that other dimension, and part of it was, it was a way to hold onto TeaBoy, who he missed more than he realized. Although, he didn’t miss Ianto nearly as much as he missed Tosh, even now, even after they had their proper good-bye. Owen put the last piece of adhesive tape over the bandage … not so much because Jack needed it to keep from bleeding out, but they didn’t have to watch Jack’s chest reform. Like he said. He was selfish. And when he was finished with what he was doing, he looked up to see Rogers looking at him with a strange expression. 

“I understand. You and she need to know that he’s really there,” he said quietly. Owen hesitated, before inclining his head. Rogers nodded slowly, adding, “Okay, then, I’ll go get her now. I … we’ll have to tell the others that Jack doesn’t stay dead. I think Stark already knows, and it seems likely that Banner does. That just leaves Agent Romanov, because I think Miss Natalie Tregarth has already told Barton. It’s what I would do in her place.” Owen smiled in spite of himself, because yeah, Nat probably had told Barton. More than likely, because that was the way her mind operated, she would warn Barton so he didn’t crash the plane upon seeing an alive Jack Harkness. 

“Leave telling Agent Romanov for someone else. We need to be with Jack, but Jack’s gonna need to see you when he first wakes up,” Owen pointed out. Rogers blinked, thought that one through, and then his small smile told the doctor that he understood. Good. Enough of this girly-girl stuff. Owen went on, “While you’re tracking down and retrieving Esther, I’m going to check on our more injured soldiers. I gotta warn you, it might take a while. Last I heard, she was planning to visit the bitch and use her as a piñata. That’s assuming that Agent Romanov hasn’t talked her into something infinitely more painful.” 

“Judging from what I heard earlier, I’m not sure that would take much,” Rogers observed as he headed for the door that would lead into the main cabin. He stopped and turned back, adding, “Oh, and Dr. Harper? My friends call me ‘Steve.’ I’d like it if you did as well. With those words, he disappeared through the door, leaving Owen and Jack alone. Owen smiled a bit. Captain America just told him to call him ‘Steve.’ That wasn’t an offer he was about to turn down. Sighing, he sat down beside Jack, listening to his breathing starting to slow and to stutter. It wouldn’t be long now. 

That didn’t stop Owen from reaching for a towel that Dr. Banner left in here, ‘just in case,’ he said, which made Owen think that Jack died and came back to life in front of the physicist more than once. Probably even several times, and that thought made Owen’s heart hurt. He remembered how the Hulk carried Jack, so tenderly, as if he was a little baby. Owen didn’t hear the whole conversation, but based on what he did hear, it seemed as if Banner didn’t remember that clearly. But Owen did. He witnessed it, just as he witnessed the Hulk’s gentleness as he placed Jack on the table, just as he heard the enormous green entity bark at him, ‘ _you take care of him_!’ That was a first. A green rage monster telling him to take care of someone. Then again, with the Avengers and Torchwood working together, maybe he should start expecting even more of the unexpected. 

While he waited for Esther, he began toweling Jack’s hair dry of the sweat. It was more to give himself something to do before dealing with the umbrella arrow. That, he was going to get rid of, because there was no way in the world he would let SHIELD or anyone else get their hands on it. He trusted the Avengers, but he was wary of SHIELD, just as he was wary of Torchwood One. There was no one who needed a weapon like that. No one in this world, or any other. The door opened once more, this time admitting both Esther and Cap … Steve. Steve said a bit sheepishly, “She wasn’t using that Tris dame as a piñata, but it was pretty close. She was, however, terrorizing the rest of the group with Natasha.” Esther offered a small shrug, but that was her only reaction as she hopped up on the table beside Jack and took his hand, stroking his hair with her free hand. 

Steve took the other side, and Jack’s other hand, and Owen took a moment before he chose his position on the table. According to Agent Barton when they first boarded the plane, it would take around an hour to fly back to the homestead, give or take … so they would be home in another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Home. Owen smiled to himself as he hopped up on the table at Jack’s feet, rubbing his thumb along the outside of Jack’s ankle. He would have to remember to tell the Tregarths that he thought of their place as ‘home.’ Because he did. Home was where Jack was and where Adriane was. Home was where family was, and Jack and Adriane and the rest of the Tregarths were Owen’s family now. 

There would be a reckoning for the remaining Paige wannabes. In truth, if Owen was in charge of the world, he would lock all of them in the same room as the people they tormented. But Owen wasn’t in charge, and truthfully, he had no desire to be. His place wasn’t at the top, it was at the side. It was supporting the rest of his team, as a healer, as a doctor, as a friend, as a brother. Owen was home. He had a family. He had a place. And it was all he ever really wanted from his life.

 

 

TBC


	13. Return to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Jack’s return to life; Rassilon learns welcome news; and the long-awaited revelation about Phil Coulson to the Avengers. (cackles evilly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m typing this from my hotel room in Orlando, Florida. I’m in town for MegaCon (which was awesome) and decided to try to work in a potential side trip to Universal Studios (emphasis on ‘tried’). This is the first of four anticipated trips this year: Orlando for MegaCon; Richmond, VA to see my best friend; Atlanta for DragonCon; and Rome, Italy in December. Well, I did say that I wanted to start traveling again, now that I have the money. If my calculations are correct, there will be two more chapters after this: a final mop-up chapter, followed by an epilogue … but don’t hold me to that (groans and rolls eyes at Jack’s comments).

Aboard the Avenger Quinjet, Somewhere over Oklahoma

Same Day

 

 

Oxygen rushed through his lungs and he bolted upright, his heart racing as he gasped for breath. Immediately, hands were touching him and petting his hair, reassuring him that it was all right, everything was okay. Esther … yes, her voice was one of the familiar ones … and Owen, he was there, too. But as Jack forced open his eyes, he found a third person he wasn’t anticipating. Sitting to Jack’s left, cradling his hand in both of his own, was Steve Rogers, staring at him with wide, concerned blue eyes. Jack sagged back into Esther’s supportive arms, rasping, “Hey there, handsome … we made it.”

“Oi, Harkness, watch it with the flirting,” Owen snarked, his gruff tone not quite masking his concern. Jack smiled at him weakly and the doctor continued more seriously, “And yes, you made it … all of you. I just spoke with Lucas and the boys traveling in the MMU with him are all fine, mainly malnourished and dehydrated. He did have to disappoint one lad … he was quite interested in our Esther. Lucas told him that a) she’s his cousin and b) she’s with someone else.” Jack didn’t even need to glance over his shoulder to know that Esther was blushing.

Steve confirmed this a moment later, saying, “Well, a pretty dame will always attract attention. Sorry, ma’am.” The super-soldier continued after a moment, “Besides, Dr. Harper, I’ve come to the conclusion that Jack flirts like he breathes. That did more to reassure me that he’s really all right than just about anything else.” Esther snickered and Owen stuck his tongue out at her. Steve continued in a mock-stern voice, “Now, now, children, don’t make me separate you.”

“You could always threaten to get whoever is flying to turn this plane around … except we’re headed home, aren’t we? Well, damn, there goes that idea,” Jack teased weakly. The other three laughed, even though it wasn’t all that funny. Still, Jack knew the laughter was borne as much of relief as it was of amusement. He asked, sobering a bit, “Anyone else … was I the only …” He waved his hand, trying to find the words. Damn. Add this to the list of ways he’d really rather not die. Gunshot wounds to the head or heart were far better than this.

“You were the only one who died, although there were a few times I thought one of our compatriots wouldn’t make it. They’re not totally out of the woods yet, but they’re still fighting. I take that back, you’re the only one other than Paige who died,” Steve answered. Jack nodded, grateful for the news and for the clarification. Steve’s hand on his shoulder tightened, and the young man said quietly, “Don’t ever do that again, Jack. I’m not worth it. I don’t care if you come back.” Jack stared up at his brother captain, thinking of a conversation he had with Peggy Carter once.

It was about three weeks after a fourteen year old Tony Stark saw him die and come back to life, protecting the brilliant teenager from a Weevil attack. Howard was furious with him, leading Jack to wonder what was happening to his old friend as it almost seemed as though he was angry with Jack for dying while protecting Tony … and Jack knew damn good and well that wasn’t the case. He, of all people, knew how much Howard loved his son. Still, he respected the other man’s wishes and stayed away from the teenager. Peggy visited him and as she was becoming more apt to do as time passed, she talked about Steve.

It was the first time Jack heard the story about how James Buchanan Barnes died, and how Steve reacted to it. Remembering that now, he said softly, “Dying for you was my choice, Steve. I think you’re worth dying for and I think that you’re worth living for. You don’t have the right to take that choice away from me, not if you have any respect for me whatsoever.” Steve jolted, as if he’d been slapped or shot, but then understanding dawned in his bright blue eyes. He bobbed his head slightly and Jack relaxed slowly. He allowed his head to drop back into Esther’s lap, his eyes drifting closed as she began running her fingers through his hair. It was anyone’s guess how long he’d be able to rest, and he intended to take full advantage.

At least, that _was_ the plan … until the door opened and Tony Stark blew inside, snarking, “Okay, Capsicle, you’re needed up in the cockpit, although since Barton has two girls up there, I’m not really sure that’s the most appropriate name for it right now.” Talk about the best-laid plans of mice and man. And what was this about two girls? Esther mouthed, ‘ _Nat and Ailsa_.’ Not that answering Jack’s unspoken question prevented Esther from hitting Tony with a Glare that Jack was sure she learned from her birth mother or from her grandmother. Even better, Tony actually swallowed hard before adding with a touch more humility, “Barton wanted to talk to you about something we’re going to see when we get to the Tregarth homestead, Cap … better get to the cockpit, chop chop.”

Steve glanced at Jack, silently asking if he would be all right. Jack responded with a small nod, and Esther added a bit reluctantly, “I suppose I should help Agent Romanova with making sure the prisoners are secure. And Owen, you’ll want to check over the other boys?” Owen hesitated, looking from Jack to Tony and back again. He must have been satisfied with Jack’s response, because he nodded once. Esther eased his head back to the pillow, before sliding from the table and kissing his forehead. Jack turned on his side, allowing him to see better … just in time to see Esther whisper something that made Tony swallow hard, and Owen grin broadly. The doctor put his hand in the small of her back, gently urging her forward. And then Tony’s full attention was on Jack. The two men stared at each other for several moments. Jack didn’t speak, because this could go one of two ways.

And right now, he wasn’t getting any sort of visual clues from Tony. It wasn’t necessarily a bad sign, but it also wasn’t a good one, as such. But Jack held Tony’s gaze, never flinching, never looking away. The younger man finally said very quietly, “I have every right to be furious with you, you know. With you, with Stane, with my parents, with Aunt Peggy. For so many years … God, Jack. I thought I got you killed!”

_Got him killed_? Jack retorted, “Like hell you did!” Tony’s mouth turned into a thin, white line, and Jack continued, “It was an _ambush_ , Tony. You weren’t doing anything that you weren’t supposed to be doing … neither of us were. It was just bad luck. You didn’t get me killed. Is that what you’ve been thinking all these years?” He thought about the fourteen year old Tony Stark whom he met while Howard was consulting with Torchwood, and could easily see that young boy thinking he was to blame for that mess. That left only one thing for Jack to do. Carefully, he pivoted until he was facing Tony properly. Now, he could see the strain in the engineer’s face more clearly and he held out his arms, saying softly, “C’mon, Tony. It’s long past time you put that burden down.”

He knew he was taking a chance, knew that Tony often hid his true emotions and insecurities behind his snark and smart remarks, just as Owen did (oooh, _that_ would be an encounter to watch). But the bravado crumpled, and a matter of seconds later, Tony was in Jack’s arms, just as he was when he was a teenager who just saw a man die and come back to life before his very eyes. He buried his face in Jack’s neck, and the immortal simply held onto him tightly. Into Jack’s skin, Tony muttered, “This doesn’t mean that I forgive you.”

Jack merely smiled and whispered, “I never thought otherwise.” He knew the truth, though. For all Tony’s bluster and bravado, the younger man had forgiven him a long time ago. He would have decked Jack otherwise. But the immortal said nothing of this to the genius who now trembled against him, as he finally let go of the horrors of a night that happened nearly thirty years earlier. Letting go didn’t mean forgetting … it meant moving forward. Something Jack himself had a hard time remembering at times. Maybe they could remind each other. Because one thing Jack knew … the Avengers and Torchwood were now bound together.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Rassilon knew the moment Theodore Paige died. He hadn’t been paying attention to his son’s timeline or to the timeline of Steve Rogers. Well … no more than usual, at least. He was too concerned with returning Ianto Jones to their correct dimension (and making sure he didn’t fall apart when they safely returned). Even so, he knew the exact moment, the very second, that Natalie Tregarth’s bullet exploded what passed for Theodore Paige’s heart. Even before he heard Koschei inhale sharply and Suzie ask equally sharply what was wrong, he knew that a life that could have been so full of potential … that was so full of potential … ended. He closed his eyes, quietly mourning for the person whom Theodore Paige could have been. And then, he exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. Paige chose his own path … and in the end, while Natalie Tregarth pulled the trigger and fired the bullet that ended his life, he also chose his own end.

Koschei murmured, “It’s done. Theodore Paige has achieved one thing … he has brought the two time-displaced captains together, and made them brothers.” Rassilon looked at the younger Time Lord sharply, and noticed the quick glances that were exchanged among his human children (oh yes, he’d become a father. Again. At his age). They noticed as well, even if they weren’t entirely sure what they noticed. Koschei returned his attention to Rassilon, observing, “Paige had many paths he could have taken, but one common theme was that Jack Harkness and Steve Rogers would meet. He could have done so much good, for an ape.” Koschei shook his head, actually seeming to be distraught at the wasted potential of Theodore Paige.

Rassilon arched a brow at this lament coming from his younger counterpart, but had no comment. The same couldn’t be said of young Ianto Jones, who responded archly, “That’s an extraordinary compliment, coming from you.” Rassilon winced, even before the younger Time Lord’s eyes darkened. It seemed that Ianto was still reeling from his encounter with his mirror self, the Ianto Jones who was created from a host of other Ianto Jones personas throughout the multi-verse, including the young man who was standing literally nose to nose with the Master whichever point oh. That was the only explanation for what was otherwise mind-numbing recklessness. Because despite various attributes, Ianto Jones was still one hundred percent human, and Koschei … wasn’t even remotely human.

“Let’s be clear about something here, laddie, shall we? I know I’m a monster. I know what I did. I have the memories playing on nonstop replay in my mind, only this time with the understanding that what I did to Martha Jones, to her family, to Jack … could have just as easily been done to me. Now. Before you go around throwing stones, imagine what it would feel like to spend every hour of every day, experiencing the agony that your Lisa felt after she was partially converted. Or, since he’s the root of your hatred of me, what Jack experienced when he went up against Abaddon, much less what I did to him. Think about that, you foolish child!”

Toshiko immediately protested, but Suzie was even louder, saying, “No. No, you don’t get to do that, Koschei! You don’t get to put what you did in the same category as what Tosh or Ianto did at any given time. Me, that’s fine. I did turn into a monster. Not just for the murders I committed with the dagger, but for what I did to Max. Ianto … he was trying to keep his girlfriend alive, maybe for his own sake as much as for hers, but still. You and I are alike. Them? They made mistakes, Koschei, not out of a desire to hurt other people, but out of inexperience or a bad case of PTSD. Neither of us can say the same thing.”

Rassilon made not a sound or a movement as the two lovers stared at each other. He didn’t even smile when Toshiko murmured to Ianto, “Is it me, or is the air in here practically crackling with sexual tension?” He was tempted, though … he was sorely tempted. He was even more tempted when he noticed the corners of Ianto’s mouth quirking upward in a not-quite smile. It seemed that his near-confrontation with Koschei shook the boy out of whatever Twilight Zone his encounter with himself put him in. He was behaving more rationally now. Good. Rassilon hoped he got it out of his system, because a reckless or thoughtless Ianto Jones was not someone Rassilon wanted to be in the same solar system as.

And he really didn’t need to hear Koschei’s next statement, as he all but growled out, “I could take you over any surface in this house, Suzie … table, chair, desk … and you couldn’t stop me.” Rassilon nearly choked, not just at that … statement, but at the way Suzie’s eyes darkened. She stepped closer to him, and Tosh gave Ianto’s hand a little tug, pulling him even further away from the line of fire.

This was proven necessary …or unnecessary, as the case may be, when Suzie answered in a low, husky voice, “What makes you think I would even try to stop you, Koschei?” Oh dear … and on that note, it was time for the rest of them to make themselves scarce. He gave a Tosh a Look, and the girl nodded, gently tugging Ianto away from the two people even now trying to turn the very air around them flammable from their gazes alone. Ianto stumbled along obediently and Rassilon smiled at Tosh gratefully. She just rolled her eyes with an almost fond exasperation.

“We’ll just leave you two alone. Try not to break anything, hmm?” Rassilon ‘suggested’ as he followed Tosh and Ianto from the room. Not so surprisingly, neither Koschei nor Suzie paid him a deco-second of attention. Naturally. They were too busy drowning in each other’s eyes. Or something. Once the trio escaped the eye-intercourse, Rassilon breathed, “Well. That was quite interesting! I’m sure the two of you have questions, so on with it.”

“Do you mean ‘ _out with them_ ’ or ‘ _on with the Inquisition_ ,’ Rassilon?” Tosh asked pertly and the Time Lord rolled his eyes, not even hesitating to swat her hind-quarters. The girl yelped and Rassilon smirked at her. Tosh muttered, “You’re taking this ‘dad’ thing seriously.” Of course he was. Especially since Ianto turned a little green every time Rassilon made reference to his ‘brother,’ Jack. Then again, that was the major reason Rassilon did it, to elicit just that reaction from the young man. He was a cruel, cruel individual at time, but oh, it was so much _fun_!

“I take nearly everything seriously, dearest Tosh. Now, since neither of you will ask the questions, I will give you the answers. First, and most importantly, both Jack and Captain Rogers are fine. The same cannot be said of Theodore Paige and perhaps Natalie Tregarth, but she’ll get better and he won’t.” He received two blank looks. Oh for the love of … oh. Of course, how silly of him. Rassilon explained, “Natalie killed him when he killed Jack and tried to kill Captain Rogers. She’s still quite new to Torchwood and it’s likely she’ll have nightmares about this. It was a righteous kill, never doubt that, but I don’t believe that will help with the nightmares. However, she _will_ have the support of her parents and sisters, as well as Jack.”

“Good,” Tosh said quietly, nodding, and Rassilon remembered what she went through after Mary the Arcateenian used her. The young woman continued, “Captain Rogers … he’s with the Avengers, right?” Her question threw Rassilon off balance at first, and then he remembered the footage of the attack against Manhattan, courtesy of the Chitauri and the brat prince of Asgard.

“He’s with the Avengers, and as Koschei said, the meeting between Jack and Captain Rogers was one of the purposes Theodore Paige had in his life. For lack of a better phrase … and I’m not especially fond of it, mind you … but that was a fixed point in time and space. The circumstances might have changed, but they would have always met. And with their meeting, the Avengers and Torchwood will begin to work together closely. Perhaps not as close as Jack would like, but close enough,” Rassilon observed thoughtfully. Tosh giggled, but it was Ianto who ended up having the last word. Typical.

“I really have to wonder what will happen when the Avengers find out that Agent Coulson is alive, and Director Fury used his ‘death’ to motivate them,” the boy observed. Rassilon smiled at that. Yes, he was rather looking forward to that conversation as well. Oh, he wouldn’t be able to hear it (yet), but he was quite sure that he would hear all about it from Jack when they met next … or the next time Koschei snuck aboard the heli-carrier to torment Olivia Colasanto!

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

It shouldn’t have surprised her. Really, it shouldn’t have. She knew just how ruthless Nick Fury could be. It was something they had in common, something that Natasha often valued, although for her, it was more a matter of being pragmatic and less a matter of being ruthless. You did what was necessary to get the job done. But … Phil. Phil was alive. Natasha Romanova slowly became aware of the young blonde eyeing her nervously, and the younger woman said slowly, “I don’t blame you for being angry. And really, when he asked us to look after Agent Coulson, Director Fury never said anything about keeping it a secret … then again, I don’t imagine he anticipated us running into you.”

Natasha barely smiled at that, vaguely aware that her demeanor was making the eldest Tregarth granddaughter (of which there were three) extremely nervous. Perhaps it was a character flaw, but Natasha took satisfaction in that. She knew the value of psychological weapons as well as physical ones, after all. And if Esther Drummond knew ahead of time what weapons Natasha had, she would be less likely to … now, what was the phrase that Clint used on occasion? Oh, yes, she was less likely to pitch a hissy fit when Natasha did it to someone else.

Besides, it gave Natasha the opportunity to study her new allies and how they interacted with each other, as well as how they responded to fear. Such information was useful. At last, however, she answered, “I thank you for telling me this, Miss Drummond … not just for telling me this, but for telling me _now_.” There was no point in dragging it out. She learned what she needed to know about Esther Drummond, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would hear from Clint about his perception of Natalie Tregarth.

There was a small exhale, and then the other woman said quietly, “I didn’t … after we ended the Miracle, after Jack ended the Miracle, the Families took me hostage. For three months, Jack and Rex thought that I was dead. I’m still not sure how my grandfather found out that I was alive, but he did, and he made contact with Jack. I … I didn’t want to do something like that to you, over Agent Coulson. I don’t really have that much to do with him. Kinda think I make him uncomfortable. But as happy as you will be to see him, you should know now, rather than when we reach the homestead.”

Oh yes. The Families. The individuals responsible for the so-called Miracle. Natasha asked, ignoring the girl’s explanation for the moment, “These Families? They aren’t gone, then?” Esther shook her head, her face tightening with anger. Natasha didn’t ask if they mistreated her. That wasn’t the point. They didn’t have to abuse her, they didn’t have to hurt her … they held her captive. They let people who cared for her believe that she was dead. Psychological warfare. It was every bit as devastating as a grenade, rocket launcher, or nuclear device.

“No. They’re not gone. Driven underground, so to speak, but not gone. Not obliterated, like I want them to be,” Esther responded, a vein of cold rage running through her voice. Natasha arched an eyebrow at her and Esther added, “I could have forgiven them for what they did to me. But for Vera? For what they did to Jack? And then I get to my sister, who signed herself and my two nieces up for Category Zero.” Her voice was shaking now, and Natasha swallowed hard, more affected than she wanted to admit. Esther looked at her, and the assassin believed her when she said quietly, “If I have the opportunity, I will wipe them off the face of the Earth for what they did to the people I love.”

There was no bravado, no ego in her words. Just a simple, matter-of-fact promise from a gentle young woman who found herself tossed into a world that she didn’t fully understand. She had been an innocent, and while Natasha lost her own innocence too long ago to truly mourn it, she couldn’t take pleasure in the loss of this girl’s innocence. Natasha said in a soft voice, “I don’t think you’ll have the opportunity. But I hope you have the chance to take part. I know people say that revenge isn’t the answer. And it isn’t. Sometimes, it only leaves you feeling empty. But revenge and justice aren’t mutually exclusive. And justice can bring you peace. Your ledger is clear of red, Esther. I hope you’re able to keep it that way.”

“Not entirely. My youngest aunt has killed more than once to protect me. Maybe if I’d been stronger, she wouldn’t have needed to kill,” Esther answered. However, Natasha was shaking her head even before the other girl finished her sentence. No. No, she couldn’t let that foolishness continue. She was well aware of the roots of such ideas, but after the sins she committed, after the lives she had taken, she didn’t want Esther to think that they were even remotely the same.

“No. Never say that again,” Natasha commanded and Esther’s brown eyes widened a bit in surprise. Natasha continued, “Your aunt made a choice, Esther. And the Families took you prisoner after you were shot, yes?” She nodded and Natasha went on, “You have no red in your ledger. I am uncertain if even your aunt has red in hers. But you must not take on the responsibility of your aunt’s choices, or the Families. You can ensure that your aunt will not have to take more lives to protect you … you can ensure that you can usually protect yourself. But you cannot take her choices from her.”

Esther sighed, replying, “I know that. I don’t … it wasn’t my intention to demean her or diminish her choices. She deserves better than that from me. They all have, especially recently. Nat isn’t just my aunt, she’s become my best friend, and I’ve been a sucky best friend lately. Ever since I found out that the man who raised me stole me from my birth mother … none of this is the Tregarths’ fault, you know, but I’m trying to work out how I feel about all this. The man who raised me, my father … I can’t be angry with him, because he’s dead. But I am angry with him. Not just for what he did to my birth mother, to Priscilla, but what he did to his own wife. He didn’t have faith in her, Miss Romanova. He didn’t have faith in her to hold on and survive for the daughter they still had. They lost their daughter, their Esther, but they still had Sarah. And my birth mother? Priscilla had her father and her sisters, yeah … but I was all she had left of my birth father. And I am so angry with him. I still love him, but I am still so angry with him, because he hurt so many people.”

Natasha just let her talk, because she had the sense this was the first time Esther truly worked through the entire mess. She had no words to comfort the other woman, but perhaps words weren’t really needed, not for that. No, what she wanted, what she needed, was just someone outside the family, outside Torchwood, to listen. And Natasha could do that for her. The assassin said softly, “First, there’s no need to call me ‘Miss Romanova.’ You will call me ‘Natasha,’ because we are allies, and perhaps in time, we will become friends. And secondly, you have every right to be angry. Your family and Captain Harkness, and Agent Matheson, tell them exactly what you have told me. They will understand.”

Esther nodded, wiping at tears that weren’t visible (but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there), and said, “I will. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems. I know you’re still reeling from hearing that Agent Coulson is still alive.” Natasha immediately began shaking her head. Not to negate the other woman’s statements … all right, maybe a little bit. But she couldn’t let Esther think that she didn’t want to listen. She did. If she didn’t she would have interrupted her … one way or another. Besides, listening to her gave her time to process the news about her not-so-dead handler.

“You didn’t burden me. But when you’re ready, I do think that you should tell your family. This is something that they need to know, and something that you need to tell them. I would suggest Captain Harkness or your aunt Octavia to start with,” Natasha replied and Esther bobbed her head. Natasha added, “For now, I’d like you to come with me. We’re going to tell Clint about Coulson.” It was Esther’s turn to arch her brows, and Natasha added, “I’m hoping that your cousin’s presence will keep him from swearing too terribly much. It’s unlikely that your aunt’s presence will have the same effect that her daughter’s will.”

“Well, if he does start swearing and Ailsa’s awake, she’ll probably want money for her swearing jar. Right now, I’m more concerned with him crashing the plane in pure shock. Jack revives, but I don’t think the rest of us will be that lucky,” Esther answered wryly, but she rose to her feet anyhow. She continued, “That reminds me, who will be watching these idiots while we’re gone?” She indicated the prisoners with a nod of her head toward Tris and Natasha just smirked. When Esther joined her nearly fifteen minutes earlier, Dr. Banner had just slipped out. He was extremely aware that Natasha still wasn’t entirely comfortable with him, and he wanted to check on Captain Harkness.

“Dr. Banner is on the other side of the door right now. He’ll watch over them while we talk to Phil. They won’t make him angry. I don’t think they’d like him very much when he’s angry,” Natasha answered and Esther actually laughed. Natasha allowed herself a moment of triumph and gently nudged her new ally through the door where Bruce Banner awaited. She smiled at the doctor, who smiled back gently. And he wasn’t alone. Steve Rogers was at his side … as was one of the recovering veterans. Natasha looked at Esther, asking impishly, “Still concerned that our prisoners will be causing trouble while we’re talking to Clint?” Esther shook her head, eyes dancing with laughter, and Natasha told Captain Rogers, “We’re heading up to the cockpit to tell Clint about Phil.   You already know, don’t you?” When Steve nodded, Natasha next asked, indicating the physicist, “Does he know?” Once more, the super soldier nodded and Natasha smirked, “Perfect. Then if Captain Harkness just holds off on saying anything to Stark, he’ll be the last to know. And that _will_ piss him off!”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I hope you enjoyed the inclusion of a variation of Bill Bixby’s classic line from the original ‘Incredible Hulk.’ ‘Mr. McGee, please don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.’ Secondly, some might infer that Tony was directing Steve to the cockpit because Clint knew about Phil already. Actually, Natalie told him about the best way to land at the homestead, and Clint needed to tell him how they would disembark. Just wanted to put that in there for clarification. Thirdly, I hope that I got Natasha right in this last section. I don’t really have a good handle on her character as of yet, but most of her internal dialogue was inspired by her total owning of Loki in the interrogation scene of ‘Avengers,’ which was probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire movie. I actually wasn’t intending for that conversation to take place between Esther and Natasha, but Natasha insisted. Just like with Suzie, I don’t argue with Natasha. And finally, I freely admit it. I don’t like Loki, and I don’t see Rassilon having a lot of use for him, either. As things stand right now, assuming there are no surprises, the next chapter should be the last one, followed by the epilogue and will feature Nick Fury. I really do want to work in Tony telling Jack that Colonel Fury has a serious case of coat envy where Jack’s concerned, but I don’t know if it will be in this story. Hope so!


	14. Halfway Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony muses about the Avengers’ new allies; Natalie tries to figure the reason for Clint’s interest in her; and Phil Coulson gets some welcome … and unwelcome … news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the penultimate chapter. I mentioned previously that before I post ‘Dite’s Favor’ (which is actually already started), there would be a story with Rassilon, Alicia Yates and the framework of her Bulwark … one that includes a much-maligned character in another fandom. It’s part of my Champions series … basically, most Champions are otherwise decent individuals who made horrible choices and died to save others as penance (most, not all). Since they’re often people who still had a great deal to give, but who had to die in that particular timeline for someone else to rise, they are taken into another time period (and sometimes a different dimension). Some Champions thus far include Boromir of Gondor; Commodore James Norrington of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies; and Guy of Gisburne from the BBC Robin Hood series a few years back. And now, three new Champions will be added to that list: John and Mary Winchester from ‘Supernatural,’ and Jacob Glasser from ‘Stonehenge Apocalypse.’ Yes, I do like John ... in fact, he and Castiel are my favorite characters on ‘Supernatural.’ I don’t have a title for that story yet, although it will likely have something to do with second chances. After Dite’s Favor will be ‘Master of the Game,’ followed by ‘Lay My Honor in the Dust,’ which will conclude the Birthright arc.

The Tregarth Homestead, Oklahoma

Approximately an hour and a half after Theodore Paige’s death

 

Tony Stark was very pissed … he was mightily pissed (although, he would venture to say that Coulson would be more pissed when he realized that he bled onto his vintage cards during his confrontation with Loki. _Careless, Agent … very careless_ ). He was even more pissed when he realized that he was the last of the Avengers to know (well, aside from Thor, something that made Jack’s lips twitch … bastard. Knowing Jack, he probably knew the Asgardian. He might have even slept with him. Ick … brain bleach, stat!). The point was, Tony Stark was not the last person to know things. That just wasn’t the way it was supposed to work … and when he realized that their Capsicle knew before anyone else did? That really rubbed salt in the wound. 

Even so, he was glad. He was glad that Agent was alive, he was glad that he had Jack back in his life (and yeah, he knew he was being an asshole, because this mess wasn’t his old friend’s fault, but losing Jack like that hurt, even if he got him back eventually), and he was glad that both Jack and the Capsicle were okay. What he wasn’t glad about? Fury. He already distrusted the head of SHIELD and this didn’t do anything to improve that distrust. Did he think that Fury was necessarily a bad guy? No. He also didn’t think he could trust him.

As the quinjet made its final approach to the Tregarth homestead, Tony looked around at the Avengers’ new colleagues. Torchwood … a far different Torchwood than the one he remembered from the mid-eighties. And a Torchwood that was comprised almost entirely of the Tregarth family. His father knew Carlyon Tregarth, of course … neither Dad nor Obie ever particularly liked him. Then again, to say that Tony was suspicious of anyone Obie trusted was something of an understatement. That was reason enough to give the patrician figurehead a chance, at least so far as Tony was concerned.

And then there were his women. Okay, so Tony was something of a chauvinist, but he liked women. He liked women a lot, and he really liked beautiful women. Being in a relationship with Pepper … more accurately, being in love with Pepper … didn’t change that.   Especially with regards to the gorgeous Sophia Tregarth, Carlyon’s wife and the mother of his three grown daughters … with her auburn hair, she could have easily passed for Pepper’s older sister. Tony was fascinated with Sophia’s story, what he heard of it so far. She was ‘frozen,’ for lack of a better word, in 1965 to save her life and the life of her unborn child … temporarily unfrozen in 1976 for the birth of her daughter (who literally fell into Legolas’ arms earlier, and if Romanova didn’t tease him about that to the end of time, then Tony would) … before being re-frozen. Technically speaking, she was well over eight … but her appearance and thought processes were that of a thirty-six year old woman, the age she was when she was frozen.

There was also the fact that all three of her daughters were attractive, at the very least. Maybe not quite his type, but they were all attractive. Or, to put it another way, they were two cougars and a girl next door. Definite variety there. So far as the grandchildren were concerned, he hadn’t seen the second oldest granddaughter, but apparently she looked a good bit like her older sister … and Esther? Well, she was sleeping with Jack. That pretty much said it all. Even when he was a teenage boy on his first trip to Cardiff, he understood what that meant. No, she didn’t say anything (aside from explaining in rather vivid detail what she would do to him if he ever hurt Jack), and neither did that doctor of theirs, but Tony could tell. Not that it was any of his business, but he could tell. The boys were pretty, if you liked that … which he didn’t, mind you, but he could see how someone would.

He was still figuring out Harper and Matheson (the latter of whom joined them at the last possible minute and spent all of his time in the main part of the quinjet, mumbling under his breath about God knows what). Harper seemed to be under the illusion that he could out-snark Tony, but the jury was still out on that one. And Matheson … forget snark, he was just plain abrasive. Judging from the Looks that Steve shot him, it seemed likely that he was getting on the Capsicle’s nerves, too, and that grated on Tony’s nerves just a little bit. In truth, some of it was jealousy. Tony prided himself on being one of the few people who could irritate Rogers. He did not like having competition for that role. Even so, he had to hand it to Matheson.

By this time, Jack changed into his customary outfit of dark trousers, blue shirt and suspenders. Matheson snarked about World War II (apparently, it was an ongoing joke between these two, since Jack just smirked). Steve, however, wasn’t nearly as sanguine, asking rather politely (as only he could), if there was a problem with the way Jack was dressed. Matheson evidently wasn’t as much of an idiot as Tony feared, because he actually hesitated before responding (it seemed that he realized that when Steve got that polite, it was time to worry). That gave Tony the opportunity to jump in, saying, “Oh, just ignore him, Cap … it wouldn’t surprise me if he has a case of coat envy that rivals Fury’s.”

There was a brief silence, before everyone erupted into laughter. Matheson just shook his head and face-palmed in sheer exasperation. Esther chimed in sweetly, “Just be glad that it was Steve, Rex, rather than my grandfather. You know how he reacts when you call Jack ‘World War II’ or otherwise reference his clothes.” Matheson looked around a bit uneasily, and Tony forbade himself to question what a man rapidly approaching ninety could do to a man young enough to be his grandson. He only had to remember some of his own encounters to realize that such a question would be mind-bogglingly stupid. And Tony Stark was not a stupid man.

“I don’t see anything wrong with the way Captain Harkness dresses. Maybe I should ask Clint, see if I’m missing something,” Romanova muttered. Then she smirked and added, “Or not. He seems to like the youngest Tregarth daughter a lot, and he doesn’t take kindly when I interrupt him.” EW! Tony did not need that image in his head, especially not since Clint was flying the quinjet. The redhead rolled her eyes, adding, “Mind out of the gutter, Stark. I mean he’s flirting with her.” Oh. Well. That was different, then. The conversation turned to other things (that had nothing to do with the alliance with Torchwood … although, it was coming), but Tony continued to mull over the Tregarth family and what such an alliance would mean.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

Natalie honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when Clint Barton began to gently settle the jet on the unfinished airstrip about a half mile from the house. Then again, she gave up on expecting anything when Jack Harkness told her that the woman she thought was her grandmother was in fact her mother. Expectations got you a one-way ticket to the hardwood floor in a dead faint (and she wasn’t conscious when Jack carried her out of the room, which also sucked). What she got was one of the most gentle landings she’d ever experienced. Then again, she was actually starting to expect that from Clint Barton, in general … especially after her spectacularly ungraceful lunge out of the tree earlier.

Nat also got some serious flirting from the agent in question, and she was still trying to wrap her mind around that. At this point, she was used to Jack’s flirting … that was just who Jack was. She’d seen him flirting with Mrs. Nealey who was ninety-five if a day the last time they went into town (Dupres, not Lawton). But a (very) attractive man, aside from Jack Harkness? That was … well, things like that just didn’t happen to her. In many ways, she was grateful for the warm weight of her little girl in her arms … whenever she got confused by his attentions (which, if she was truly honest with herself, was often), she could merely bow her head and drop a kiss to Ailsa’s hair. By now, she’d done that so many times, she was starting to get dizzy.

She … she just couldn’t figure it out. This was … this was Clint Barton, Hawkeye, from the Avengers! A bona-fide superhero was flirting … with her! And as far as she was concerned, he was as much of a hero because he was just an ordinary human being, not even remotely enhanced like the rest of the team. He was … well, not like her, but like her parents or her sisters or her nephews. What on earth could he possibly see in her that was even worth flirting with? Was it because she fell on him (and oh, wasn’t that embarrassing)? It just didn’t track, this was something that she wasn’t used to, and she tried to retreat into herself, like she always did when she was confused about something. At least, that was what she tried to do, but Agent Barton … Clint … refused to let her do that. He asked her questions about her home, about what she did for fun (and seemed absurdly pleased when she told him about the shooting range … quickly following that up with a request to teach her archery).

At this point in her life, she knew when men were feigning interest in her to make fun of her. Actually, she became an expert in that when she was still in high school and while she forgave the boys in question, it was a lesson she’d never forgotten. Jack wasn’t like that, and neither was Agent Barton … Clint. They both meant it. She just didn’t understand how or why. Well, what was it that Priscilla always told her when she was growing up? Oh, yes, how could she forget? ‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’ Funny thing, she found that as annoying at thirty-five and a mother as she did when she was thirteen and thought her older sister was her mother. She’d waited, so when was she going to see?

“You got her okay?” Agent Barton … Clint … asked, and Natalie realized with a start that not only was she unbuckled and standing (how did that happen?), but Ailsa was listing dangerously in her arms. Clint didn’t even wait for her to answer … just gently righted her baby girl so that she sprawled against Natalie’s chest, rather than leaning out of her arms. Which, heaven knew, she did enough of when she was a baby. The archer continued, “You know, if you’re comfortable with it, I could start teaching her archery?” Natalie didn’t dismiss it out of hand, although the temptation was there. Her father told her earlier that Ailsa wanted to take self-defense lessons again; and while it broke her heart that her five year old daughter wanted to avoid feeling helpless, she thought self-defense lessons were a good thing.

“Let me think about that, okay? There’s a part of me that runs away screaming at sharp pointies anywhere near my little girl. But … Ailsa was abducted a few months ago, and my father is wanting to talk to me about enrolling her in self-defense lessons,” Natalie answered. But there was a big difference between self-defense and archery lessons. Clint was regarding her with compassionate eyes and she added, “I’ll think about it, I promise. And I know that you would be teaching her with kid-friendly arrows, it’s just …”

“It’s a lot to consider. I know. C’mon. Do you think your younger niece will bring out Coulson?” the sniper asked, putting his hand in the small of Natalie’s back and gently nudging her toward the cockpit door. Natalie allowed herself a tiny shrug, because whether you wanted to call Adriane her sister or her niece, she was still a bit unpredictable. In a way, that was reassuring: with all the changes in her family in the last several months (had it really been close to a year since they rescued Esther from the Families?), Adriane’s unpredictability was the only predictable thing, the only constant. And wasn’t that a frightening thought?

“Well, since we’re coming back with several injured veterans, plus Jack, I would think she’d bring something other than one of the golf carts. Yes, our property is big enough that we occasionally use golf carts to get around. Especially after the last time Jack died away from the house, but still on our property. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s not exactly small, and while my Iolaire is well-trained, even she has a hard time with the motions necessary to lower herself to the ground to get someone that size onto a horse. I can at least drag him onto the golf cart. That reminds me. I hope my parents, or at least someone, remembered to get the ATVs onto the MMU’s,” Natalie murmured, worrying at her lower lip as she was guided out of the quinjet.

When she reached the back of the ramp, she found one of the regular RV’s waiting, with her younger niece and Agent Coulson reclining against its bumper. Well, that was where Adriane _was_ until Owen scooped her up into his arms and snogged her like there was no tomorrow … pausing just long enough to flip Jack off over his shoulder when the immortal (who was leaning against Captain Rogers) whistled. Really, they needed to stop teaching Owen things like that before they corrupted him. Oh. Right. Never mind.

The Avengers were all staring at Agent Coulson as if he was newly resurrected (wow, Nat, that’s two for two in the stupid comments category!). And the agent himself? He was staring back at them, until one of the veterans cleared his throat. Jack observed, still leaning against Steve, “You know, this is fun to watch and all, but we’ve got some very tired, very hungry, very sore soldiers, sailors, Marines and airmen here who could use a warm bed and some equally warm food. Is everything ready for them?”

“Oh! Right, yeah, let’s get you guys aboard. It’s no more than a ten minute trip back to the house. I hope you don’t mind, you boys will be staying in the bunkhouse … well, it’s more like a stable, the one we used when they tried to round up the children a few years back,” Adriane babbled. Natalie was of the opinion that her niece was babbling because she was still reeling from Owen’s kiss (and the fact that his arms were still around her) than anything else. The Avengers and the members of Torchwood present (Nat, both of her nieces, Jack, Rex, and Owen) began assisting the wounded men to the RV. It would seem that the confrontation with the agent would wait until later. Natalie was perfectly kay-oh with that.

As they loaded their injured passengers, Adriane asked, “When will Mom and the others get here?” She seemed a bit anxious, and when Natalie raised an eyebrow at her niece/sister, Adriane elaborated, “The sheriff was here earlier. I told her what was going on with … you know, everything? And she wanted to know what we’re doing with them.” Oh, that was a good question. They dealt with Ailsa’s bitch teacher by letting the Rift have her. And only half of the wannabes went in the MMU’s, despite her father’s original decision.

“Well, the rest of Paige’s group won’t be here for another five or six hours … and the Avengers may want to deal with them personally,” Natalie observed to her niece, who was still in Owen’s arms. She didn’t look inclined to move, either. Good for her. Good for them both. She knew that both already got the shovel talk from Jack … and he tended to do those better than just about everyone. Mainly because he had the skills to back it up … and he had the will to carry out those threats. Rex muttered something extremely uncomplimentary behind her about what the Avengers wanted and Natalie glanced backward briefly before taking a step back and stepping lightly on his foot. He yelped and Nat smiled.

“Are you leaving the other twats in the plane for now?” Adriane asked, reluctantly removing herself from Owen’s embrace. And for his own part, Owen seemed equally unwilling to let her go. Hmm. Interesting. Very interesting. As to the conversation at hand … Nat shrugged, because really? That was up to the Avengers. It was their jet, and she wasn’t about to tell them what to do. Especially not since they were being so patient about their reunion with Agent Coulson. And, of course, as soon as she thought that, she jinxed herself. Oh, well. There were worse things than that.

Clint approached his handler (and was she the only one who thought that sounded a touch kinky?), saluted him, and said quietly, “Agent Barton reporting for duty, sir.” Natalie glanced over her shoulder at Rex, fully prepared to step on his foot again if he decided to behave like an ass. But, for once, the former CIA agent seemed inclined to act like a mature adult. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Natalie would be on the phone with Octavia once they were back at the house, and her middle sister had some very creative ideas about punishment. She didn’t entirely understand her older sister’s relationship with Rex … she understood just enough to know that there were some things she really didn’t want to know about.

And Agent Coulson inclined his head, answering, “You can debrief me when we reach the Tregarth homestead, Agent Barton … Agent Romanov.” It may have sounded cold … to someone who didn’t see the warmth in his eyes, the quiet pleasure he took in seeing Clint and Agent Romanova … to say nothing of Captain Rogers (and would she be too much of a girl if she squeed in delight at the thought of ‘ _omg, I’m standing only a few feet from Captain America_?’ Probably, but oh well, there were worse things to be).

“Then let’s get going … we got wounded men here,” the aforementioned Captain said, sounding both gruff and earnest, as probably only he could. Captain Rogers added after a moment, “I don’t mean to seem disrespectful, ma’am, but would you mind if I drove back to the house with your directions? I know it’s been a few days since you saw your beau, and I could use the practice in driving.” This time, it was Adriane who all but squeed, telling the super-soldier that he was more than welcome to drive the bus. And of course, Jack snickered at whatever innuendo he dreamed up. Holding her daughter close as she boarded the bus, Nat was just grateful that Jack didn’t share said innuendo with the rest of them. There were just some things she wasn’t ready to explain to Ailsa!

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

 

There weren’t words in the English language which described how grateful he was that Barton decided to keep things professional. Not that he was really worried about such an eventuality would arise, but Phil Coulson really didn’t want to turn into a blubbering mess when he saw his ‘kids’ again … much less when he saw Captain Rogers again. Really, he was even glad to see Stark again (although he both looked forward to and dreaded his reunion with Pepper Potts, who was one of his favorite people). But Captain America … his childhood hero stood near Captain Harkness protectively. Some would say it was a wasted instinct, since the immortal always came back from his deaths, but Phil … he welcomed the sight. It told him that the young man still heeded Dr. Erskine’s last request of him: to remain a good man.

As they waited for their families to return to them, Adriane Tregarth busied herself by cleaning up the stables which would be a temporary barracks for the less-severely injured warriors … and when she wasn’t doing that, she was making other preparations. Evidently, like her mother and older sister, when Adriane was worried, she baked and she cleaned. Fortunately, while she did that, she left Phil to go over old case files, including the one for Captain Rogers and his final request from Erskine. It was Director Carter who put things into perspective. Evidently, Erskine, as he lay dying, put his hand over Cap’s heart. And as anyone who spent any amount of time with the super soldier could tell you, that was his most important attribute. Or, as Nonna Talia often said with a gentle smile, _Steve Rogers’ strongest muscle truly was his heart_.

They were bouncing along in the bus on the way back to the Tregarth homestead now, with Cap in the driver’s seat, and both Barton and Romanov telling him about how Loki was defeated weeks earlier. Some of it, Phil knew … a larger part he didn’t, because he’d been in a coma at the time. Besides, footage could only show you so much. Of course, Stark interrupted, because that’s who he was. And all the while, Barton was stealing glances at Natalie Tregarth, who was tucked against a window, her daughter sleeping in her arms. There was a part of Phil which wondered if they should have brought Mij with them, and then he dismissed it. There would be time enough for that reunion later. Besides, he was enjoying the glances that Barton was stealing at the youngest daughter of Carlyon and Sophia Tregarth … just as he was enjoying the way she reacted to those glances. Matchmaking was not in his repertoire, but it was fun to watch them. Owen Harper noticed his glances and winked at him. Phil suppressed his smile. This could get quite interesting … especially given the doctor’s involvement with the middle Tregarth granddaughter. Very interesting indeed.

Esther Drummond/Tregarth was in the seat opposite her aunt, side by side with Jack Harkness. Her head rested on the immortal captain’s shoulder, and it wouldn’t have surprised Phil in the least if they were holding hands. He wondered how his grandfather would have felt about that and then he smiled, because he already knew. Nonno Angelo would have been pleased.

Even if their relationship wasn’t long-term (and Phil had the sense it wouldn’t be, that it would last a few years at most), his former lover was at peace for the moment, and that alone would have made Angelo happy. He just wished he could have said a proper good-bye to Captain Harkness. That was the part that broke Phil’s heart. After all the years his grandfather watched over and protected his former lover, he never had the courage to seek him out. Instead, Phil’s cousin’s machinations led to that meeting once Angelo was in a coma. _Then have the strength that I didn’t, my Filippo_ , he heard in the back of his mind. _Yes, Nonno_ , he thought back, _I understand what you’re trying to say, and I’ll make you proud_. There was another warm laugh, before his mental grandfather answered, _you have already done that, my Filippo_.

It was his grandfather’s sage council that gave Phil the courage to ask of his driver, “So, now that everything’s settled and the Avengers Initiative has taken flight, I have a request to make of you.” In the rear view mirror, he saw Steve Rogers lift his eyes to the mirror and an inquiring eyebrow arch. Phil continued, feeling a curious sense of déjà vu, “Can I interest you in getting those vintage Captain America cards signed for me?”

The captain’s muscles tightened, and that was the first indication that there was something very not right. However, it was Stark who said, “Those are still being repaired. Never thought you were a careless man, Agent … leaving those priceless cards in your shirt pocket or jacket pocket, or wherever you left it.” What? He left those in his locker! There was no … oh. He turned to look at Stark, who took one look at his expression and said flatly, “You didn’t have them in your pocket when Loki decided to use you as a pin cushion … did you?” Phil shook his head slowly, and Stark spat, “Fury.”

“Of course … how could I have been so stupid?” Natasha muttered. Phil wanted to be angry. And he was. But, he also knew what Nick was doing … in truth, it was partly his own fault. He told his boss that they needed something to avenge … and he oh so conveniently volunteered. But still … his vintage Captain America trading cards? He understood that sacrifices had to be made, but his cards? Natasha continued, “Stark, you said that you’re working on getting those bloodstains out?”

“Yeah, but it’s slow-going. I don’t suppose you happen to have some, Jack?” Stark asked and the immortal just arched an eyebrow. The billionaire muttered, “Yeah, should have known better than to ask that. Don’t worry, Agent … we’ll figure something out, and you’ll get your cards signed. And Jack, don’t even try to make an innuendo out of that!” That drew a laugh from everyone on the bus, including Captain Rogers. The immortal smirked at Stark and Phil could only shake his head. Privately, though, he was planning his next move … he understood what his boss was up to, but this would not go unanswered!

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional notes: Yeah, I lost track of where I put Rex. Not that he’ll let himself stay forgotten for long. This is Rex we’re discussing, after all. Also, I’m taking suggestions about what Phil should do to Fury in revenge for his cards. The more subtle, the better.


	15. Epilogue:  ... But Still Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Lucas musing; cuddling for Jack, Esther and Owen; while Phil confronts Olivia (and let me know if you want to read the encounter with their grandparents that Olivia tells Phil about).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Uhm … wow. I went to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier yesterday afternoon and much as I hate repeating myself, wow. I’d been half-thinking about some of the things revealed in the film, so it won’t be hard working those into the rest of the series. However, before I start working on ‘After the Rain,’ a short story will be posted regarding the post-credits scene. If you’ve seen the movie, you know the one I’m talking about. It will involve that individual and someone who understands a bit about becoming someone she doesn’t recognize: namely, Suzie. Their stories are different, but at the same time, they aren’t. I’m still figuring out a title for that, but I should have that up within the next few days. For now, here’s the epilogue for ‘The Two Captains: Brothers in Time.’ I hope you enjoyed the ride!

Inside the Oklahoma Border

Several Hours later

 

 

_Lord save me from soldiers_! More to the point, from stubborn soldiers (and sailors, and airmen and oh yes, we can’t forget the Marines) who were insistent that they weren’t that bad, and to take care of the others. In truth, Lucas Martinelli would have been far more worried if they weren’t trying to play ‘ _pass the medic_.’ He was no less aggravated, but at least he knew they’d be all right. Even so, he was beyond grateful that his brother was with them … Jason helped him to keep his more recalcitrant patients under control. Damn, spoke too soon! One of the younger former captives was even now trying to push himself to his feet, despite the motion of the MMU. Thought he was better because he was feeling better. Typical. Lucas was halfway over to the other young man when Jason intercepted them both. And not a moment too soon, because the other dude nearly took a header and Lucas was just about at his wit’s end.

They had about another two hours before they reached home, and they were all exhausted. Lucas was actually relieved that Rex wasn’t with them in the coaches, because one of two things would have happened. Either he and Lucas’ mom would have fought like cats and dogs all the way back to the house (not fun with several injured men aboard) or they would have flirted nonstop (also not a lot of fun). And no, it really wouldn’t have made a difference if CIA was riding in a different MMU, because if he learned anything about those two? Being in two different vehicles wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Of course he was pleased that his mom was happy. And for the most part, that was the case. Mom was happier than he’d seen her in a long time. Lucas was still very young when his father was murdered … no more than ten or eleven, but he remembered what his mom was like right after it happened. She was … for a while there, he and Jason lost their mother as well as their father. Oh, she took care of them and made sure that they ate and tucked them into bed. She made sure that they got to school. But something died in her that day, died with their father. At the time, Lucas was too young to understand what it was … all he knew was that he missed his daddy and that his mom was hurting.

Returning to the Oklahoma homestead where she grew up started to put the pieces back together. He remembered his mom walking into her older sister’s arms and all but collapsing as their cousin/aunt held Lucas and his older brother and Adriane clung to their grandfather’s hand. Natalie … how old was Natalie at the time? Twenty-three or twenty-four? Something like that. He remembered that her face was streaked with tears, but her smile was warm as she asked Jason and Lucas if they’d like some cinnamon toast. It was something they normally had for breakfast, but right then, it sounded like heaven to both heart-sick boys. Maybe that was where it began … regarding cinnamon toast as comfort food. On the other hand, maybe he was over-thinking things again. God knew he did enough of that when he was tired.

At least they knew that Jack, Esther, Nat, Ailsa and Rex arrived safely back at the house. They heard from them about … oh, about three hours earlier. Or rather, Lucas heard from Adriane, who gave him the low-down on just about everything, including the fact that Clint Barton … Hawkeye … was checking out their youngest aunt. Huh. Well, it was about time someone other than Jack showed a little common sense! Yeah, Lucas knew that he was biased, but it was about time someone other than the males of this family demonstrated that they had two eyes and a working brain.

His cell phone bleeped at him (what? Didn’t everyone’s cell phone bleep at them when they had an incoming message), and Lucas waited until everyone was in a supine position before he removed his cell from his pocket. The message was very short, just ‘ _glad you’re okay_.’ There was a pause, during which time Lucas tried to figure out how to respond and how the sender knew where he was. The answer to the second question came immediately, as the cell bleeped again, this time explaining, ‘ _I followed you from the homestead. You should know by now that I’m always watching over you_.’

This time, Lucas had a response, typing back ‘ _lyk that’s not creepy_.’ He knew it annoyed the other person when he used text-speak. It was one reason why he did it. Lucas bit back a smile when a cyber-raspberry appeared on his screen. _Mature_ , he thought, _real mature_. Then again, that was one of the ways they bonded … they were both the younger brothers. Of course, he was the younger by three years, rather than three minutes, but still.

‘ _Meant what I said. Glad you stayed out of it, and let Harkness and Rogers do the heavy lifting_ ,’ was the next comment. Lucas squirmed a bit, and as if the other man knew he was making Lucas uncomfortable, he added, ‘ _the next time we meet, I’ll tell you more stories about your dad_.’ Lucas smiled and sent a ‘thumb’s up icon’ in response. With his conversation concluded, Lucas returned his attention to his work. They would be home in about another few hours. He knew that his uncle made contact with his mother, and there would be a reckoning for that. Mom still hadn’t forgiven Uncle Daniel for what he’d done for the Families. And in truth, Lucas hadn’t, either. But his uncle was abandoned by the Families.

His uncle wasn’t a good man. Unlike Jack or CIA or even Lucas’ own grandfather, he’d done more bad than good. A _lot_ more bad than good. And it wasn’t even the sort of bad where they thought they were doing good (like Henri Ducard in _Batman Begins_ ) … it was total self-serving bad. He hitched his wagon to the Families’ star, or however that saying went, because he wanted to end up on top. He wasn’t a good man, wasn’t a nice man, and while Lucas felt uncomfortable about keeping his communications with his uncle to himself, at least he didn’t provide Uncle Daniel with his mother’s cell phone or email. (He also didn’t ask where his uncle got them. He really didn’t think he wanted to know.)

No, his uncle wasn’t a good man. But, he _was_ still family.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

The hugs were exchanged, stories were told, and food was consumed. Once Nat put a very sleepy Ailsa to bed, with Mij tucked into bed beside her, she and Adriane began assigning rooms to the Avengers. Those from Paige’s crew who arrived on the plane were put in the dungeon, as Ailsa called it the one time she was in there. A rather fitting name, now that she thought about it. Adriane was still giggling over the fact that Tris Malloy hit the ground in a dead faint when she saw Jack, very much alive although a bit wobbly. In truth, Esther was more than a little amused by that little scene as well. And she saw a number of the former prisoners exchanging grins as well. Under the circumstances, who could blame them?

Tony Stark spent almost all of his time pestering Jack and Captain Rogers … not that either captain seemed to mind, especially since once Stark paused to take a breath, Jack started relating some of the stories he had about the billionaire genius when he was a teenager. Esther really didn’t pay attention to the stories themselves … more like, she enjoyed seeing how many shades of red (and there were many) Stark could turn during those few hours. Judging from the expressions of the other Avengers, it seemed likely that they were enjoying it as well in a ‘ _ha, a new member of the family_ ’ way.

Like others, Esther hadn’t missed the way Clint Barton looked at her youngest aunt, and while she knew that Natalie’s feelings for Jack would never allow her to completely enjoy the handsome archer’s attentions, she also knew that Natalie was at least open to a flirtation. Maybe that would erase this insane notion that she wasn’t good enough for someone like Clint or Jack. As the night progressed, Hawkeye almost preened from his place between Nat and the Black Widow. Natalie and Natasha. That made Esther smile. She would have smiled even more brightly if she’d known that ‘Natalie Rushman’ was the name Natasha Romanov had used while working for Tony Stark.

And Dr. Banner … he was comparing notes with Owen, who was utterly fascinated with the physicist’s work. The kind that didn’t involve him turning into a giant green Hulk, that is. Then again, this was Owen, and you just could never tell with him. Esther’s newly-discovered younger sister was curled against her boyfriend’s side, Owen’s arm draped around her shoulders. As for Captain Rogers? Well, he sat on Jack’s other side, and whenever Esther would lean forward, he would catch her eye and smile in an almost conspiratorial way. She would return the smile before once more resting her head on Jack’s shoulder.

At last, people began to shuffle off to their rooms, or to the room that was assigned to them. Surprising Esther only a little, Captain Rogers walked her and Jack to the room they shared at times. She wasn’t at all surprised when Jack ignored the proffered hand and instead, pulled his fellow captain into a fierce hug. To his credit, Captain Rogers immediately returned the embrace, and Esther smiled fondly at them both. Her smile grew brighter when the blond captain told her, “Take good care of him, ma’am.”

“Oh,” Esther assured him, smiling up at Jack, “I _plan_ on doing just that.” This time, it was Captain Roger’s turn to blush and cough a bit in his hand. But he was smiling, too, and he saluted them both. Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the bed. Their first round of love-making, despite Esther’s promise to Captain Rogers, was Jack taking care of Esther. He wasn’t blind or ignorant to how she felt when she heard him being beaten … or to her reaction when Tris attacked him. Maybe Jack didn’t completely return her feelings, but this was still real. And that was good enough for her.

Especially since their second round of love-making entailed Esther keeping her promise. She peppered his hot flesh with equally burning kisses, and took pleasure in the pleasure she was giving him. Because he was right when he pinned her wrists to the bed and hovered over her, he was right when he said that she needed this. Not just the sex, but the reminder, the knowledge, that they were both here and they were both all right. He was right. Then again, he usually was. It was something about Jack that tended to drive Rex crazy … something that hadn’t changed since they were on the run from the Families.

After a third round of love-making, this time for them both, they lay clasped in each other’s arms. Esther’s thumb lightly, absently stroked Jack’s nipple, the arch of her foot resting against his calf. Jack would press soft kisses to her hair, to her forehead. The door opened just a touch and Jack commented without raising his head, “Let me guess. Adriane all but ordered you here.” There was a snort from the door way, just before the door closed and the light from the hall was extinguished. A few minutes after that, there was warm skin against Esther’s bare back, and an arm draped across her waist.

“You aren’t far wrong. Accused me of being distracted. Me! Distracted! Can you imagine such a thing!” Owen retorted, actually sounding offended. Jack and Esther exchanged a smile, and Owen continued, still pretending to be offended, “Personally, I think she wanted to flirt with either Rogers or Banner. She idolizes Pepper Potts too much to make a move toward Stark.” Esther rolled her eyes, and after a moment, Owen said more seriously, “She thought you might need me, Jack. I don’t know about that, but it’s gonna be a while before I stop having nightmares about pulling that thing out of your chest.”

“Stay as long as you need to,” Jack answered simply. There was a brief silence while Owen made himself comfortable in the bed, and then Jack began to talk. It was about the time he spent with Captain Rogers … and at the same time, it wasn’t. They were anecdotes, really. And as each story was told, Esther felt a little more tension ease from Jack’s body. He sounded more than a little sleepy when he added, “By the way, don’t be surprised if he ends up in here, maybe sleeping on the floor. Told him that he was welcome to join us, if only for the company.”

“Of course he’s welcome,” Esther answered, removing her hand from Jack’s chest to swat Owen’s hip when he pretended to grumble. And that was all it was, a pretense. None of them could fathom what Steve and Jack went through out there, or in general (well, maybe Owen could, after being in another dimension for four years), but by the same token, none of them could argue that they now shared a bond, a connection. And Esther wouldn’t even try. She answered softly, feeling Jack smile into her hair as she spoke the words, “He may have just joined us … but he’s still family.”

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

SHIELD Helicarrier

Two weeks later

 

 

 

He walked the corridors of the helicarrier, eyes sweeping from side to side. It was odd, really, when he thought about it. He walked these halls a thousand times, and never once saw them. But with his second lease on life, he noticed so many things. Before he departed from the Tregarth homestead for this visit, he and Steve had several conversations, including one about the day he became Captain America, the day a skinny asthmatic boy from Brooklyn became one of Phil’s greatest heroes. He told about how he and Peggy Carter rode through the streets of Brooklyn and Steve pointed out each street or alley where he was beaten up.

Yes, during the last two weeks, ‘Captain Rogers’ gave way to ‘Steve.’ Phil was finally able to see the real person, instead of the idol, instead of the icon. And, he realized as he got to know Steve, that the flaws that were glossed over in his childish eyes? Those made him like Steve all the more as an adult. He was a flesh and blood man, and you worshipped icons and gods. You liked and loved human beings. 

Or not, as the case may be. Phil had a very specific destination in mind today. With the revelation that he was alive to the Avengers, there was one last revelation to make … one last reunion, one that wouldn’t be nearly as joyful as the previous one. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he thought about the hug he’d received from Pepper Potts. Then she proceeded to yell at him for several minutes for almost getting himself killed. After that, she hugged him again, and if Phil didn’t know better, he would have sworn she would have hugged him to death if she could have. Then again, this was Pepper Potts and he knew better than to underestimate her. When he looked at Pepper, he saw what could have been and never would be. 

At last, he reached the infirmary. When Tony Stark realized that he intended to visit the helicarrier, he looked a little concerned … and not even the reassurance that he wasn’t returning to work, just visiting (he hadn’t been cleared yet by Lucas Martinelli, much less by Dr. Harper, to return to work) seemed to ease Stark’s mind. And that was why he was currently cloaked from the sight of others. He didn’t know what was troubling Stark, but if it was enough to suggest that Coulson wasn’t fully safe among his former co-workers, then Phil would listen. Especially since Steve relaxed, ever so slightly. To assuage the worries about his safety, he took the device. And he would only turn it off when he came face to face with Olivia. 

Contrary to what he knew the Tregarths thought about his cousin, she wasn’t a stupid woman. Selfish, arrogant, jealous and greedy, yes. Stupid, generally not (although given her abduction of the Cooper-Williams family, he could see how the Tregarths would think she was an idiot. Phil had to admit that her actions there qualified her for the Bonehead of the Year Award, as Clint put it so succinctly). Thus, he really wasn’t surprised when Olivia immediately asked, as soon as he entered the room, “Who is it? Who’s there? I can’t see you, but I know you’re there. That door doesn’t just swish open.” 

Phil waited until he was in front of his cousin before decloaking. It gave him the opportunity to look at Olivia without his expression being seen. She was a mess. _God, Livvie, what happened to you_? He knew that she was in an exploding SUV (thanks to the thrice-be-damned Families), but that was nearly a year ago. There should be some sort of healing by now! And yet … Phil shuddered, and Olivia once more demanded, sounding nearly hysterical, “Who is there, dammit! If you’re here to kill me, don’t bother! I can’t die!” 

Phil was so startled, he dropped the cloaking device and Olivia gasped. She stared at him, breathing, “Phil? But you’re dead, they told me that you’d been killed by that Asgardian brat!” The SHIELD agent couldn’t answer, not at first, because he was so shocked by her adamant statement that she couldn’t die. And then, his cousin surprised him all the more by doing something she hadn’t done since their grandmother’s death: she began to cry. Like most men, Phil hated to see women cry. And when it was a member of his family, someone who he loved (although he didn’t necessarily like)? That was even worse.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside one of the few family members he had remaining. Phil didn’t dare to take her hand … instead, he allowed his hand to rest on her thigh as she cried. Once her sobs began to slow down, he whispered, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know … I’m afraid of hurting you more.” Olivia just laughed at that, actually sounding hysterical, and Phil didn’t move. He was terrified of … everything about his cousin right now. After some of the things he’d seen, her appearance was the least terrifying thing about her right now. 

“Oh, Phil. I am _always_ in pain, regardless of what happens. That was the decree of Lord President Rassilon of Gallifrey,” Olivia choked out. Lord who of what? His cousin evidently saw his expression, because slowly, painfully, she answered, “A Time Lord. The first Time Lord, from what I’ve been able to put together. And he’s the father of Captain Jack Harkness.” Time Lord. As in the Doctor. But it was the second part of the statement that really snagged his attention. The father of Captain Harkness. He stared at his cousin in horror, and Olivia smiled painfully, “Oh yes. Lord Rassilon was most displeased with how I got his attention … and for that, he tied my life to that of Anwen Williams. So long as she’s alive, I’m alive … and she has the potential to live a _long_ time. Maybe as long as Nonno did.” 

Her voice broke on the last two words. By now, Phil couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to. It was as if a dam burst in his cousin’s soul, and words came rushing out, “He told me that because I hurt his son, I would hurt for a very, very long time. And he’s kept his word, because I haven’t healed at all. I wondered why I didn’t die after Harkness ended Miracle Day, but now I know. It’s because his father wanted to punish me. But that wasn’t enough, oh no. He lets his lieutenant torment me as well.” 

“Oh, Livvie,” Phil whispered, “Livvie, what happened to you? Why would you do such a thing in the first place?” Tears were running down his cousin’s face once more, and he shook his head, murmuring, “You heard the same stories I did, Livvie, Nonno never changed the stories at all. By the time we were adults, we could recite the stories from memory. You know as well as I do that the best way to get his attention was to appeal to his curiosity! Why on earth would you drag an innocent baby into this?” 

He didn’t expect an answer. Not really. But he got one. And even more surprising (especially given his line of work), it was an honest answer. Olivia answered brokenly, “I was jealous. I was so jealous, Phil, and I hated him because he hurt Nonno, because as much as Nonno loved Nonna Talia, he loved Harkness more. He spent his entire damn life, protecting him from the Families. He loved Harkness more than he loved us!” 

The SHIELD agent stared at his cousin, wondering if she realized just childish she sounded. Maybe because he’d spent the last several weeks with an actual five year old, maybe it was because of the op they just finished (and, not surprising him at all, several of the recovered veterans offered to help with the new veteran’s home in Dupres), but Phil could just about feel his patience with his cousin slipping away. He snapped, “Do you even hear yourself, Mary Olivia? Ailsa Tregarth doesn’t sound like that, and she’s only five!” His cousin’s eyes narrowed and Phil continued, “Oh, and don’t bother bitching about the Tregarths! They just spent the last six weeks taking care of me, and the likelihood of me sympathizing with your ridiculous jealousy is somewhere between zero and negative fifty!”

Olivia just stared at him in shock, and Phil continued, “Jesus Christ, Olivia, what happened to you? You used to be a sweet girl! Nonno and Nonna would be so ashamed of you, of what you’ve become!” The shock and hatred vanished from her face, and Olivia began to cry again. _Dammit_. And now, Phil kicked himself for being all kinds of an ass. Yes, his cousin screwed up royally, and yes, she’d behaved like a malicious, vindictive bitch. But he wasn’t taught to kick someone while they were down. And right now, there was no one more down than his cousin, in every way imaginable. Without meaning to, Olivia told him that part of her punishment was a visit from another Time Lord, who tore her heart and soul apart. 

“Oh, I know. Believe me, I know how ashamed they are of me … they told me. Nonna … oh God, Phil, Nonna was so angry with me! She told me that this wasn’t how she raised me, and she was right! _She was right, I was her good girl_!” Olivia wailed and Phil sat down once more, putting his hand on her knee this time as his cousin sobbed as if her heart was breaking. Or maybe, it had already broken. As to this Rassilon, Phil was torn. On the one hand, he couldn’t fault the man for acting on behalf of his son. But … but this was excessive! And Olivia was still his cousin. What kind of man would he be if he wasn’t angry on her behalf? He had to table that for later. Instead, he focused on comforting Olivia as best as he could. 

Especially when Olivia wept, “He was right about me! Nonno, he told me that I was no better than the Families! He … oh, Phil, I’m so sorry!” Phil abandoned the chair to sit on the bed beside his cousin, pulling her into his arms, mindful of the burns marring her body. Her head came to rest under his chin and she wept into his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how it was possible that Nonno and Nonna told her that they were ashamed of her … then again, Captain Harkness was the son of a very powerful Time Lord. That indicated that they could travel in time. And wasn’t that a terrifying possibility? 

It got worse. He learned from his cousin that this particular Time Lord was allied and old friends with Odin of Asgard … that as a young Time Agent, his son befriended both Thor and Loki. If there was one thing Phil knew about Thor Odinson, it was that he was fiercely loyal to his friends; and he didn’t take kindly to people hurting them, for any reason. At last, Olivia was talked out and cried out, and she just lay limply in his arms. The two cousins sat there together, Olivia’s head resting against Phil’s collarbone. She asked sleepily, “Why did you come back, Phil? Why are you bothering with me?” 

Phil held her a little tighter, breathing, “Because, you silly girl. Yes, I’m pissed at you beyond belief. I am disappointed and horrified at what you did. Not because you were afraid or because it was to keep something worse from happening, but because you were jealous. I’m furious with you for that. But you’re still family, Olivia, and I don’t have much of that left. I haven’t liked you for quite some time, because of how you’ve behaved … not just with Captain Harkness, but with your own family. But I still love you, and I probably always will.” 

“Still family,” Olivia echoed, sounding un-unnervingly like a little girl (which made him wonder if some of Anwen was bleeding through to Olivia). However, he only nodded, never releasing her. Olivia whispered, “That’s good enough, then.” Still family … and that counted the family he had with the Avengers and with the Tregarths. They took care of him after he nearly died, and that made them part of his family. Just as the Avengers were, as well.

There was far more to family than blood and marriage. Whether Olivia understood it yet or not, Phil did: on that horrifying night back in 1928, when he chose to let their grandfather live, despite his awful betrayal, Jack Harkness became part of their family. Because without that mercy, their family wouldn’t exist. There was a time when Olivia understood that. It was up to him to remind her. And maybe, just maybe Rassilon would eventually demonstrate the same mercy Jack showed their grandfather, all those years ago. Maybe. 

 

Fin


End file.
